3 of Hearts
by financebabe
Summary: Bobby and Lester decide to show Stephanie what it would be like to have two men in her life without drama or jealousy. Along the way they learn that while you never want to change the one you love, you might be willing to change your whole world for them.
1. A Little History

_JE gets all the credit for the characters below. I get all the blame for the mess this story is going to put them in. _

_Jenny (JenRar) how did I get so lucky? You are truly an up for anything beta, and I consider myself quite fortunate to be able to work with you. Thank you._

_Dina (aydinbydin), this story is definitely because of you. Thank you for asking about the possibility, encouraging me when I began to think about it, and letting me test out scenes on you. You're a great encourager, idea bouncer, and friend. Thanks!_

_A/N: I don't like to begin stories with long notes, but wanted to be upfront on this story in particular. This will be a mature fic, depicting a non-traditional relationship. If that idea is offensive, please do not bother reading any further. That being said, if you decide to take a chance on this story…thank you! I wanted to try something different, and this won't be a ride like any I've written before. _

**Chapter 1 – A Little History **

_Lester's POV_

I grabbed a big bag of plain M&Ms and poured them over the top of a freshly popped bowl of popcorn, giving the heat from the corn a chance to soften the chocolate and create the perfect late night snack to go with the final half hour of the Ranger's game on TV. I'd been waiting for Bobby to get in before calling it a night, but I needed something to do to keep me from falling asleep, and a little snack seemed like the perfect idea. Besides, since my partner wasn't here, he couldn't complain about me ruining what he would consider a healthy snack by mixing chocolate in with it.

I'd just finished the first fistful when the sound of the key in the lock alerted me that I'd waited too long to start snacking. I sat there waiting to see what kind of shape Bobby was in after his third late night call out in a row. The guy had to be exhausted, but I knew better than to think he'd actually admit to it.

"Hey, man," I called out when the door closed so he'd know I was up. "Want some popcorn?"

Bobby came over and sat – or rather, collapsed – beside me on the sofa and stuck his hand blindly in the bowl, transferring the treat to his mouth without looking first. After chewing, he made a face and asked, "Why would you ruin a perfectly good snack with candy?"

"Don't get huffy with me because you don't understand the importance of taste and nutrition mixed together," I warned him with a smile, loving the fact that I knew him well enough to know he'd be annoyed with my combination.

Bobby picked out the remaining M&Ms in his hand, tossing them back in the bowl, before finishing off what he had taken out, and then laid his head back on the couch and shut his eyes.

"What was it this time?" I asked, knowing that despite his exhaustion, he wouldn't go to sleep until he'd relived whatever he'd done tonight to clear his conscience that he'd done everything the right way. Bobby wasn't exactly what I'd call anal, but he was particular enough that when he was trusted by the guys to patch them up, he took that responsibility seriously.

"Stephanie," he replied, giving me an answer I was absolutely not expecting.

"What happened?" I blurted out, my mind going through every possible worst case scenario.

He let out a long deep breath, which did nothing to ease my sense of panic.

"Distraction tonight," he started, before rubbing his eyes with this thumb and forefinger. "Hal saw Jacobson at Johnny's Bar and called Ranger, since the time is nearly out to get him."

I ran the name in my memory and got a hit easily. "Jacobson, as in the guy who liked to play with knives and women?"

Bobby's eyes opened so he could turn his head to look at me. "That's the one."

"Why would Ranger let her get within ten feet of Jacobson?" I couldn't stop myself from asking.

"He had a plan to nab him before Steph could be in danger," Bobby explained, without actually telling me anything. I knew better than to think my cousin would intentionally put Stephanie in danger, but this seemed to be tempting fate to bite her in the ass.

I waited and Bobby kept talking. "She lured him out easy enough, but Ranger told her no matter what she was to keep walking and not look back. After she cleared the door, she heard Jacobson say Ranger's name, and according to her, he said it in a mean way."

My face broke into a smile over that. Only Stephanie would describe a violent man as using a mean voice. I didn't even need him to finish. "Let me guess," I interrupted. "She turned around and put herself in front of Ranger."

Bobby's lips turned up like mine had. "Got it in one," he confirmed. "She put herself in front of Ranger just as Jacobson lunged with the knife. Hal was behind Jacobson and grabbed him in time to keep it from being worse. He got her in the chest, but it missed everything vital, leaving her with a nasty gash about three inches long."

"St. Francis?" I asked, even though I knew better.

Bobby laughed without much real humor in the sound. "She flat out refused, despite the blood dripping down her chest. Ranger had to head out for a mission; he was only there to keep an eye on Stephanie before leaving town, so he couldn't really insist on it and take her there anyway. I volunteered to bring her back here and stitched her up downstairs."

"What a shame to have that chest marred with a scar," I commented. It wouldn't take away from her looks, but I knew it would bother her just the same.

Bobby sat up a little, pretending to take offense. "Man, give me a little credit. I said I stitched her up, and I gave her my absolute best work. Tiny stitches take more time, but they'll minimize the scaring. I'll watch over it to be sure there aren't any issues, and in a couple of months, I bet you won't even be able to tell where he got her."

I grinned, proud of his skills, having seen them more times than I cared to remember first hand. "All right," I placated him. "Don't get in a wad over there; I'm sure you did her right."

"Damn straight," he replied under his breath, before adding, "If it had been one of the guys, I'd have slapped eight stitches on it in the parking lot and sent them back with care instructions. But this was Stephanie; she deserves better."

I couldn't help but notice the reverent way he said her name. It's not something I could fault him for; I did the same thing.

We were both quiet for a while, working through the bowl of popcorn, with me eating all the M&Ms Bobby discarded. "You know, this would have been just as good without the chocolate," he commented offhandedly.

"Stephanie would appreciate the chocolate," I defended my culinary decision.

Bobby chuckled at that. "The next time she's over here, I'll help you make it for her."

I stopped eating with my hand frozen in mid air as I pictured her on the couch between us, snacking from the bowl. Bobby grew quiet at the same time, and I had a gut feeling he was thinking about the same thing.

Bobby and I had known each other for nearly twelve years and had been at RangeMan together for the last seven. During that time, we'd seen each other through some rough shit – the worst the world had to offer and we'd lived to tell about it. Well, maybe not tell about it, because most of it was classified, but to have it haunt our dreams just the same. I think a man can only face so much of the evil in the world before it begins to affect him. For some guys, it turns them hard and cold; others begin to think that only extreme violence will end the fighting, and they flip out into an area there is no returning from. But for others, we develop our own system of dealing with what we have endured, and while it might not fit with what Freud or Jung would call healthy, it keeps us ticking and functioning from day to day.

Most of RangeMan fell into this last category. Some of them were too young and/or fortunate to have seen the worst of it, so they were still innocent enough to not have a clue what humanity was capable of doing to itself. But the core team understood, and we didn't judge the coping mechanisms any of us used, because we knew what had caused us to need them in the first place.

Tank got in touch with his softer side. He spent all day as Mr. Guns and Ammo centerfold, and then left the office every night and went home to cuddle his kittens. It was a strange image, but knowing he was caring for something pure and good motivated him to get through whatever he had to each day and reminded him what he was fighting for. He also said he could talk to them, and all they did was purr in return. No complaints, no judgment, just love and acceptance. I used to give him hell by pointing out that of the core team, he was the only one that turned to pussy everyday for comfort, but after getting knocked out over it enough, it lost some of the humor for me.

Ranger was a little harder to peg. He pulled away from most people and isolated himself. Being the leader that he is, everybody was drawn to my cousin, but he shielded himself and refused to let anybody get under his skin. Stephanie had come the closest of anybody on this Earth, getting in more than his own daughter. But still, he held fast to the rule that he wasn't really relationship material and that he couldn't commit to anything real with her. Those of us who knew him knew he loved her; it was just in his own way. My guess was that in his mind, loving her meant protecting her from any threat, and he classified himself as the chief threat among all the possibilities.

To keep himself in line, he had all these rigid rules to live under that he refused to bend. The way he structured his day, his diet, his work out regimen – everything he did was precise and perfectly in line with his own code of behavior. Even for Stephanie, he wouldn't bend his rules and give himself to her. I knew he feared what would happen to him if he released even a small measure of his control. Only somebody from the outside would call him callous for feeling that way, but those of us who had been through the same experiences understood. If he wanted to keep his demons in their proper locked and hidden positions, then he couldn't risk letting go, not even for the possibility of something great.

Bobby's method used to be found at the bottom of a bottle. We'd come back from a mission, and he'd hit a bar and drink until he was near passing out, literally speeding the booze into his body before his liver and brain could process what he was doing. He'd get a taxi home and pass out in his own bed. Then the next morning, he'd eventually wake up, hurl, and drag his sorry, hung over ass to the gym and work out until his hangover left him. Then he'd collapse in his apartment for another night. After two days worth of suffering, he was able to keep it together and could reenter society.

I used to go to the bar with Bobby but I never drank. Instead, I scoped out the joint and found the best looking piece of ass I could find that I thought could tolerate a one night stand with some edge and kink to it. Then I'd bang them all night long and leave while they were passed out in exhaustion, then I'd join Bobby in the gym the next morning. It was crude, but I needed that physical exertion to get myself zoned out and focused on something other than the bloodshed and the death I'd been surrounded by on assignment.

And then, our old methods stopped working. About five years ago, after what I think we'd both classify as the worst mission of our lives, we'd come back to Trenton, barely hanging on. We'd gone to the bar together, and Bobby had started up with his shots. I'd spun around and hadn't seen a single thing I thought could handle what I needed to dish out. I'd realized that at the same moment the new bartender had decided to warn Bobby that he needed to slow down. That had made me really consider the man sitting on the stool to my left, and I'd realized that except when he came home from missions, he never drank. His apartment was booze free, and he was the first one to lecture the guys about the damage alcohol would do to their systems.

I'd asked him before why he didn't just pick up somebody – guy, girl, whatever – like I did, but he'd said he couldn't do it. He couldn't have sex with someone without there being an emotional connection of some sort, and a one night stand with somebody he knew he never wanted to see again held no appeal at all.

That night, I'd asked him why he hit the sauce after a mission, and he'd actually answered me, which had told me right away that he was already a little buzzed.

"_When I pass out, I don't have any dreams – no memories. Then when I wake up, everything hurts too much to dwell on anything but putting one foot in front of the other."_

_Damn, if I couldn't completely relate to that. I engaged in dirty sex for nearly the same reason. When I was banging something, all I could think about was my next release, so there was no room in my head for any images of death and destruction._

_I threw a wad of cash to cover Bobby's tab and grabbed him by the elbow, dragging him out with me. He obviously wasn't done drinking, because he complained all the way back to Haywood. When we got back to his apartment, he was pissy, and since I'd broken my own habit of dealing with the adrenaline and mission let down, I was getting edgy in return. In the end, he gave me one too many complaints, and I drew back my fist and hit him. It wasn't my finest moment, admittedly, but it was bound to happen, with two guys still juiced in fight mode. He responded by reflex alone and cracked my lip open. When I spun back around to face him, he was wiping his chin with the back of his hand. For some reason, it was like the smack to the head had done something to my vision, and I saw him – really saw him – for the first time._

_I almost hit him again, but after I noticed that Bobby Brown was actually a great looking guy, and knowing what those hands and muscles were capable of doing – both on a mission and off – I reacted animalisticly and rushed him, knocking him backward like a football player would a tackling dummy. When his back hit the wall, I covered his mouth with mine, and I kissed him._

_The first three seconds, he just stood there with his hands up like he was showing me he was unarmed and not a threat. But the moment my tongue traced over his lip, removing the small trickle of blood still present from my initial strike, something snapped in him, as well, and he kissed me back, grabbing my shirt and pulling me to him tightly enough that I heard the material in the back ripping. I can't begin to detail what happened next, because it was such a flurry of desperation, but I do know that for the next three hours, we used our bodies to soothe the beasts that prowled just below the surface for us both. It was raw and primal, as neither of us had to hold back or worry about hurting the other._

_After that, we collapsed on the floor beside the bed and didn't wake up until the sun had risen. I couldn't remember ever sleeping that long, or that soundly, after a mission. While I was pondering why a night with Bobby was so different, he started to wake up, too. At first, he looked confused but when his eyes focused on me, he smiled a little and shut his eyes again, as though just knowing I was there was enough to relax him back to sleep._

_I wasn't sure what to do with that reaction. Bobby was the guy that watched over all of us, and having him entrust himself to me made me want to sit up a little more and wake up to do a better job as his sentinel._

_Then the reality of the situation set in and I began to freak out. What in the hell had I done? Bobby had made it clear in the past he didn't do emotionless sex. Did that mean he had a thing for me I'd never known about? Somehow, I found that hard to believe, even though I'd always suspected he preferred men over women, I rarely saw him with either to know for sure. _

_I didn't want to lose the friendship we had, and screwing your best friend was a near guaranteed way to do just that. I was torn between wanting to wake him up to tell him that I was sorry for attacking him and wanting him to sleep longer so that I could ignore the whole situation and hope he'd had just enough booze in him to not remember what happened._

_Eventually, I shut my eyes and when I woke up again, my head was on Bobby's chest, and he was doing something strange to my hair. I'd never had a guy play with my hair. Hell, I'd barely had women do it. The kind of sex I usually engaged in didn't lend itself to much cuddling after. But lying here in the safety of RangeMan with one of the few people I absolutely trusted in this world, it felt…nice. So, I just stayed there and let him do it._

_Bobby broke the spell by speaking. "Look, man, I don't exactly know what happened here last night..."_

_My eyes shot open at that confession. Maybe I'd get lucky and he wouldn't remember the fists and the time I bent him over the back of the couch, moving the sofa with each hard thrust._

_He burst that bubble of hope by continuing, "...but the fact that my jaw hurts and my ass is begging me to not even attempt to sit down tells me what I at first thought was one hell of a good wet dream must have really happened."_

_I looked him in the eye, wanting to be a man about it, refusing to hide in fear. Because I'd broken with my usual way of coping, I was about to lose my closest friend. This was going to hurt – bad._

"_And whatever that was definitely wasn't our usual way of dealing with a mission, but it feels like it worked for me because I'm not on edge, and I feel…I don't know…spent – but in a good way."_

_I couldn't help but smile at his less than eloquent summary. And in considering it quickly, I felt the same way. My body was used to working out, so spending time in the gym wouldn't feel forced now, but I didn't feel like I needed it right away to get my focus back._

"_I know that sex can kill a friendship and I refuse to let that happen, so unless you disagree, I think we should call this what it was and not talk it to death. We helped each other decompress and get over the shit of what we've been through – nothing more, nothing less. The fact that it was amazing is just proof of how badly we needed it, but I know you aren't gay, and I don't want you having a panic attack the next time I have to give you a tetanus shot in your ass for fear that I'll be coming after you with more than just a needle when you drop your pants and bend over."_

_That brought a laugh out of me, and all of a sudden, it wasn't weird and it wasn't forced. This was a one off. And despite his classification of my sexuality not being exactly true, I didn't disagree with anything else. In truth, I didn't have a preference – male or female. I tended to hook up with whoever I thought was capable of handling me. It was merely chance that it tended to be women I picked up when I was around the guys and when I was on the prowl alone, I found myself leaving with another man. I was attracted to strength, not gender._

"_Thanks," I lamely responded, still not making an effort to get up._

_We stayed as we were on the carpet of my apartment for another fifteen minutes, until Bobby shifted and I knew our time together was coming to a close. I reluctantly rolled over and got up, offering my hand to him and smiling with some form of male satisfaction when he grimaced upon standing._

"_You gonna be all right?" I teased._

"_Laugh it up, man," he shot back, "but I wasn't exactly gentle with you, either, so I wouldn't suggest you sit down hard anytime soon."_

_I put my hand on the back of his neck and squeezed a little, thinking it was a strangely warm way to touch someone and wondering why it felt so easy with Bobby, when I'd always shied away from such intimacy in the past._

_For the next week, life went on at RangeMan as usual. Skips were brought in, accounts were monitored, and reports were filed, all in a day's work. But the following Saturday, I was edgy again. I'd gone out Friday with a group of guys and felt off my game, electing to leave without picking up anybody. I'd spent the evening in the gym instead, as a weak substitute for the kind of release I needed._

_The next night, I was climbing the walls until a knock sounded on my door. I opened it, both surprised and relieved to see Bobby standing there with a pizza box and a DVD. He walked in when I stepped back, and the first words out of his mouth cracked me up. "This ain't a date, but I'm losing my mind and needed somebody to hang out with."_

_I totally got __that, so__ I gladly accepted his pizza, despite the fact it had pineapple on it, and we settled down to watch _Gladiator_. When it was __over, I__ felt better, but there was still an itch just under my skin that I wasn't sure how to scratch._

_We turned our heads to each other at the exact same moment, and as soon as our eyes locked, something snapped. Before I could register the fact I was moving, I'd pinned Bobby against the back of the sofa and had my tongue down his throat. Luckily, he gave as good as he got, and after a few rounds with him, we once again collapsed in a heap._

_The next morning, we were a tangle of limbs in my bed, with me having slept better than I had all week on my own. Whatever Bobby and I did to each other had a calming power I didn't understand, but it was obviously needed._

Over the next two months, we'd found a way to hook up every weekend and a couple of times during the week, as well.

And then it happened. That turning point that I think every couple has where they can look back and say that was the defining moment in how they went from whatever they'd been to what they are now. It was a bleak January, and every scum I'd been sent to bring in had been hacking and coughing with whatever was going around. I tended to stay healthy, so I just got in there and got the job done. I'd asked Bobby that Saturday morning in the gym if he wanted to watch a movie at my place that night. He'd smiled and said he'd bring over a DVD before leaving for his own workout. We both had known he'd come over with some action flick, and we'd put in the player for appearance's sake. And we'd both known that before the first word of dialogue was spoken, one or both of us would be naked.

But by that afternoon, I'd felt like absolute shit – achy with chills, feeling clammy, and coughing. I rarely got sick, but when it happened, it was usually horrible, and I'd finally had to lie down in my bed and just quit fighting it. I hadn't had the strength to call Bobby and cancel for the evening, hoping when I didn't answer his knock that night, he'd get the message and go back to his place. I blame my fever for such a stupid thought. When I hadn't answered, he'd just picked the lock and let himself in, not stopping until he'd found me.

I don't remember it but Ranger told me later that my fever was at 104 when Bobby found me. He'd gone into major medic mode, stripping me down and throwing my passed out ass in the tub to lower the fever. He'd stayed by my side for the next forty-eight hours, only leaving me to run to the john, or answer the door when Ella brought us food. When I'd started coming back to the land of the living, I remember focusing on his worried face and blurting out, "You look like shit."

He'd smiled and responded, "Hurry up and get better so I can make you pay for not only insulting me, but for being the cause of it."

Somehow I'd known he'd been with me all that time, going so far above and beyond what he'd ever done for any of the other guys. That act had cut off my ability to say that what we shared was just sex for the purpose of getting rid of the tension and adrenaline our lives brought. He cared about me. And half dazed in my bed, I'd been able to admit that I felt the same way. If the roles had been reversed, I'd have tried to do the same thing for him. I hadn't been able to figure out what to say to let him know how honored I was that he'd stayed with me, so I'd just reached out and found his hand, taking it in mine and holding on tightly.

Bobby had covered our joined hands with his and said only, "You're welcome."

We'd never defined it, but there was no denying my illness had changed what we had. After that, in the privacy of our apartments, we touched each other, not just as a prelude to sex, but as a confirmation the other was all right, as a greeting, as a comfort. We'd never said we were a committed couple but neither of us even looked at other people, so defined or not, it's what we were.

It took another month before the guys had caught on. While we weren't ashamed of what we had, we didn't advertise it outside our apartments, either. I was coming back from an install at a client when my phone had beeped with an alert that somebody needed assistance and shots had been fired, bringing down one of our guys. I'd turned around, hating the idea of somebody from RangeMan getting hurt and wanting to be sure the jackass responsible was brought down. Plus, I'd partnered with Bobby in the field plenty over the years and had picked up enough medical skills to assist him if the guy who'd been hit was seriously injured.

_I got out of my truck the second I put it in park and rushed over to where Ranger was standing, with Cal and Brett both looking at someone on the ground. I looked around for Bobby, figuring he'd be giving care to whoever was on the ground, but I couldn't see him. Jogging over, Ranger met me halfway and put a hand on my shoulder to stop me. I thought it was odd, but I gave him my attention in case he needed me to do something specific. Instead, his expression told me whatever he was about to say was something I wasn't going to like._

"_Slow down and give them room to work," Ranger said, tilting his head to Cal and Brett. Both had basic first aid training, but neither one of them had my knowledge, so I didn't bother hiding my confusion at his statement._

_Then it hit __me. Bobby__ wasn't working on the __guy because__ Bobby _was_the guy on the ground. I caught Ranger off guard and pushed him away enough to get by him and get to the body on the asphalt. Bobby's usually dark skin was looking ashy, and the blood all over his shirt told me the bullet in his gut had hit something __major. Later, I would remember__ screaming a sound that even to my __shock-filled__ ears sounded __barbaric, and__ then pushing Brett out of the way so that I could put my hand on Bobby's stomach and get a feel for the damage._

_I started talking, unable to stop myself, knowing that just because his eyes weren't open didn't mean he couldn't hear me. I blabbered constantly, demanding he not die, and confessed how much I needed him to hang on. I told him how much he meant to me and how he'd brought me back from the cycle of self destruction I'd been on – how I owed him my life to go with my heart, since he seemed to already have that._

_When I saw him struggling to open his eyes, I bent down closer and kissed his lips to assure him I was there. As the ambulance pulled up behind us, he managed to say, "Love you, Lester," before passing out._

The professionals had taken over, giving him the care he needed, and I'd jumped in the back of the wagon to ride to the ER, still holding Bobby's hand. It had taken four days for the doctors to agree to let him sign himself out of the hospital, as long as he was going to have someone to see to his care. I had taken that responsibility and had asked Ranger if Bobby and I could have one of the two bedroom apartments at RangeMan. He'd smiled and agreed with a single nod, saying he'd have all our shit moved before we got home later that afternoon. And just that simply, we'd moved in together.

We still didn't exactly flaunt what we have, but after my confession in front of Cal and Brett, everybody knew. The only person that had said anything was Hector, who'd been pissed that I hadn't told him I was open to a relationship with a man. I'd had to correct him that I didn't know I was open to a relationship at all. I assumed it was the fact that it was the right man that had convinced me to give it a try.

For the last five years, we'd lived in this two bedroom apartment, using one room for storage, and the other as our shared bedroom. When one of us was on the edge, we knew exactly what to do to level that off and the security that came with never having to temper our reactions or needs out of fear that they would be overwhelming to the other brought such a freedom to us both that we'd never looked back.

I shook my head to get out of memory lane and back to the man beside me, who had his hand full of popcorn but wasn't moving. I knew I had to have Bobby in my life. I wasn't safe without him by my side to keep me level, and I couldn't be happy without him. But just the mention of having Stephanie in our home made me pause and wonder, ever so briefly, if what we had could use a little softness sometimes, too.


	2. Breaking the Cycle of History

_All characters below belong to JE, not me._

_Jenny (JenRar) thank you so much for agreeing to beta another story for me, and for keeping me current, including introducing me to the concept of PWP. _

_Dina (aydinbydin) thank you for giving me a third set of eyes on this chapter, and for keeping all the mini-scenes we wrote so that I didn't have to start from scratch. _

_A/N: After the mixed responses to the first chapter, I thought it might be helpful to point out that I wanted to write this journey to explore the possibilities of the emotions involved in a unique relationship like this one. I do not intend to have smut as the leading plot element driving in this story. _

**Chapter 2 – Breaking the Cycle of History**

_Bobby's POV_

"The next time she's in our apartment, I'll help you make it for her," I tossed out to Lester, joking. But the second the words left my mouth, I got an image of her sitting on the sofa between us, her softness against the hard planes of our bodies, and I couldn't eat any more popcorn.

What Lester and I shared was hard to describe. I guess to most people, they saw us and assumed we were just a gay couple. And based on the healthy appetite we had for each other in the bedroom, that wasn't an unfair assessment. It just didn't really capture it all.

Sure, we were a couple – we shared like interests, we spent time together, we were faithful and monogamous – but it was more. So much more. I needed the connection I had with Lester in order to feel balanced. I needed the comfort of knowing when I was on edge, I could come at him with both barrels and he could not only handle it but meet me head on. I never worried about losing control anymore, or that the demons that would sometimes come to me at night in my dreams would take over and throw me somewhere I couldn't be brought back from. No matter what I faced, I knew Lester had either been there himself or could at the very least empathize enough to understand and bring me back from it. Being able to have that kind of faith in my partner kept me functioning, and I couldn't live without it.

But even with that being said and acknowledged, there were times when my imagination wondered and I began to consider what it might be like if we both weren't so aggressive. There were nights when Lester was completely exhausted that I pulled him close and softly touched him, just to remind myself that I could.

Last year, Lester brought in a pedophile. When he kicked in the door to the building where the scum was hiding, he'd found him in there with a young kid he'd been about to abuse. That night, when he came in and sat beside me on the sofa, he'd leaned into me, not seeking the fire and heat that so easily grew from any contact between us, but needing comfort – a reminder that even though the world had some screwed up individuals in it, we weren't among them. Eventually, the soft stroking and embraces turned to more, and that night when we came, it wasn't with our trademark force but with a softness I hadn't known we were capable of. It was…nice.

And now I had that image of Stephanie with us, but not as a woman coming between us and tearing us apart. I could so easily picture her as that missing link to help complete what we already shared so that the tenderness we were capable of could be brought out more, to serve as a reminder that there was more to us than the machines and animals our pasts created.

I don't really have an explanation, but my mouth opened and I said, "You don't think she'd…" and then I stopped and threw the popcorn from my hand into my mouth, ignoring the cloying taste of chocolate that clung to it.

I turned my face to look at Les and saw a faraway look in his eyes. I knew when he did that, he was stuck in some memory. I waited to see if he would come back to me or if it would pull him into some abyss where he'd need help returning from.

I got worried when I noticed his eyes dilating, but then I saw him pull his bottom lip between his teeth in an expression that he only made when he was thinking about sex. I called his name and tried to hide my laugh when he shook his head, as though the movement would hit some kind of reset button in there.

"You know I love what we have," he said, as though he wanted to assure me that he wasn't growing bored with us. "But sometimes, do you ever think…"

I guess I wasn't the only one that couldn't get the right words for this situation. "Not in general," I said, trying to help him a little. "I mean, I never see somebody on the street and think, 'Hey, it'd be cool to put that between me and Lester and see what happens,' but Stephanie…well, she's different."

"Hmmm," he moaned deep in his throat as he agreed with me. "Do you think she would?"

That was the million dollar question here. "I don't know, but if she would, that could be…"

"Holy shit," he finally responded, basically repeating what I'd been thinking.

"But it's not exactly something you can just go up and ask her, now is it?" I pointed out, realizing while it might be Heaven on Earth, it wasn't likely to happen.

"No, but we could plant the seed for it and see if it grew into something," Lester suggested.

Never let it be said behind all the jokes and wisecracks, Les wasn't sharp.

"How do you plan on doing that?" I wondered.

"You leave that to me. We'll just find reasons to be around her a little more often and show her that we're actually decent guys, capable of treating her well and not bailing on her when she needs somebody," he offered.

I shrugged my shoulder, not entirely convinced that would do it. As far as I was concerned, we were already doing that, even if it wasn't as often as it could be. But the possibilities that presented themselves if she would open herself up made it more than worth trying.

I yawned before I could say anything else. "Come on," Les interrupted my next thought. "Let's get you to bed before you fall asleep right here."

I chucked at his conflicting word choices. "It seems to me if your point is that I need some sleep, staying here would satisfy that need a lot faster than going to bed would."

"True," he countered quickly. "But if you go to bed with me now, you'll fall asleep with a smile on your face later."

The next morning, we were throwing our cereal bowls in the sink to wash later, before heading upstairs for the morning staff meeting.

"You got anything scheduled today?" Les asked in a voice so casual, I knew he had a plan already forming in his mind.

"Stephanie is supposed to come by my office this morning for me to look at her stitches and change the dressing. Other than that, I don't have any open case files, so unless something comes up, I'll just be doing my usual," I explained, waiting for him to tell me what he was thinking.

"Let me know when you're with Steph, and I'll join you," he said, surprising me.

"Why?" I blurted out before I could stop myself. It's not that I didn't trust Les, but I was always careful to protect people's privacy. And if there was once person who should be protected above all others, it was Stephanie.

"Relax, man," he said in a calm voice that let me know he wasn't planning anything over the top. "Seeds take a long time to grow, so the sooner we start planting, the sooner we might see something sprout."

"Subtle though, right?" I reminded him of what we'd agreed to last night.

"No worries," he replied with a grin that put me right back on edge.

Three and a half hours later, I sent a text to Les telling him that Steph was here.

It took him less than a minute to appear at the door. I'd barely gotten her up on the exam table before Lester called out, "Hey, Beautiful, can I have one of your lollipops?"

She stopped unbuttoning her shirt to tilt her head to the side, as though she didn't understand what he was talking about. "I don't have any," she finally attempted as a response.

"No, I mean from the stash Bobby keeps in his desk for you," Les explained, making me think he just might be able to pull off subtle after all.

Stephanie's hands dropped off her shirt with just the top three buttons undone, revealing the top of her bra, but not giving me enough access to get to the bandages on her chest. "You keep candy for me?"

I shrugged, not wanting to make a big deal out of it.

"Why?" she asked, obviously not willing to let this go.

"You like them and since I know how much you hate doctors, I figure it's a little way to be sure that you leave with something good to remember your time down here by," I told her, knowing this conversation wouldn't end until I'd answered her.

"Oh," she replied under her breath. "Thank you."

"Why don't we go ahead and get the dressing changed on your stitches, and then you can pick one out for yourself," I told her, hoping to get my work done quickly.

I pulled the tape away from her chest as slowly and gently as possible, but she still flinched.

Lester came over right away, as though he'd noticed her discomfort and decided to provide a distraction. "Do you have plans for lunch?"

She blinked a few times before replying, "No, I don't think so."

"How about when the good doc is finished, you let us take you to Pino's," he suggested.

"Okay, I can always go for a meatball sub," she replied.

Lester began to suck on the Tootsie Roll he'd taken from the top drawer of my desk, slightly distracting me. I knew I needed to keep my head on my work and not what his mouth was capable of, so I commented, "Their salads are good, too."

Lester and Stephanie exchanged a look, making me ask, "What?"

"Man, there's always a time and place to be healthy, but if you're going to go to Pino's, you have to have either pizza or a sub. It's what they specialize in. What you're talking about is like going to a fried chicken place and ordering a hamburger. Just because it's on the menu, doesn't mean you should ask for it," Les explained, as though I were incompetent when it came to food.

I was pleased with the look of the stitches I'd put in the night before. I put some more antibiotic ointment on top, and then grabbed a sterile dressing to keep it covered. "Everything looks great," I assured her.

Lester leaned over and looked at the stitches, nodding his agreement. "You did a good job, man," he praised me. "I'll bet there won't be a scar at all."

His words caused us to look at her chest. I found my fingers involuntarily running down the edge of the stitches, as though examining them further just so I had a reason to touch her. Her skin was so soft and lovely.

I realized I needed to say something, or she might realize I was touching her for no reason. "I doubt it will scar, but if it does, it will just be evidence of what she was willing to do for a friend."

When I looked her in the eye, she smiled at me and I was glad I'd spoken up.

I blamed the sugar he'd been eating for the next thing that came out of his mouth. "So what's the deal with you and my cousin?"

Her face turned instantly red, but I busied myself by pretending to sort my supplies. I really wanted to hear the answer.

"It's complicated," she said, obviously not understanding my partner at all. There was no way he'd let it go at that.

"How about Morelli?" Les pushed again.

If possible, her face went even redder. "That's even more complicated."

"How about this, then." Les seemed to switch tactics, pulling the lollipop from his mouth and using it to motion as he spoke to highlight his point. "It seems to me you let these two guys lead you wherever they want you to go because you don't really know what you want."

He paused, and Stephanie looked at her knees, as though they might somehow contain a response to his statement.

"Why don't you spend some time with us—" he motioned between himself and me with the candy on a stick "—so you can spend some time with two great guys while you figure out what it is that you really want."

Her head snapped up, as though she was convinced she hadn't heard him right.

"Subtle. Right," I said under my breath. Hell, why didn't he just write her a note – _Bobby and I want you in our lives __and in our bed, __if you're comfortable with it. Hey, how about it?_

I took her distracted state as a chance to take care of her further and button up her shirt so that she was ready to leave.

"How about that lunch," I said, breaking the unease in the room.

I refused to be talked out of my salad at Pino's, not just because they were delicious but because I had a rule about only eating junk on the weekends. Being a Thursday, this was definitely not a pizza day. So I satisfied myself with listening as Stephanie turned her pizza into a porno soundtrack and Lester licked the cheese off his fingers with smacking sounds each time he pulled a finger from of his mouth. Between the two of them, I was pretty sure I'd pass out soon from the lack of blood near my primary brain. On the plus side, I knew all I'd have to do was give Lester a look, and my relief would be immediate when we got back to Haywood.

"What are you up to this afternoon?" Les asked, before diving back for a fresh slice.

Stephanie pushed her food into her cheek to respond, "I've got a few skips to round up, so I guess I should take care of that." She sounded less than thrilled about that idea.

"You need to be careful with those stitches," I reminded her, wishing she would just go home and rest for the next few days.

"Yeah but I need rent money, too," she fired back, reminding me this was Stephanie I was dealing with. She didn't appreciate being told what she could and couldn't do. Then she softened her expression a little and said, "I've got Mooner's file, so I'll probably try bringing him in this afternoon and call it day. The rest I can save for a day or two."

"I'm off tomorrow. If you want to have some backup, I'd be glad to round some up with you," Lester volunteered.

She took a long drink of her Coke before responding. "Thanks for the offer, but one is for shoplifting a candy bar and is from the 'Burg, so I'm pretty sure she'll just come with me. The other is Alfonso Richards, and I've brought him in before, so I know what to do to get him."

"What you have to do to get him?" I asked.

"Well, the first time I had his file, I knocked on the front door, and when he answered it, I gave him my standard speech. But before I could finish saying police station, he picked me up and threw me off the porch."

I felt the metal fork in my hand bend slightly from the pressure my fist was making at the idea of someone throwing her through the air.

"What do you mean, he threw you off the porch?" Lester asked, his jaw tightening down.

"Umm..." She looked at him like his question was strange. "I mean he lifted me up off my feet and flung me into the bushes on the ground." Then, as an afterthought, she added, "It took me two days to get all the prickly shit out of my hair."

Oh God, that hair – I loved her curls. I knew she complained about it being difficult to manage, but the thought of feeling her uncontrollable, curly hair somewhere on my body was not helping my blood flow problem. Then I pictured Lester's hands gripping handfuls of it to pull her head back so that I could access her neck, and I dropped my fork completely, making a loud clattering noise as it bounced off my salad plate.

"What's he wanted for?" Les gritted out, obviously not having as much trouble as I was staying on topic.

"Robbery." She shrugged his question off as though he'd been arrested for feeding the animals at a zoo instead of stealing. "But it wasn't with a weapon," she quickly said to help us relax. Then she completely undid her words by adding, "He just walked into the liquor store, reached across the counter and knocked out the clerk. He opened the register and took all the money."

"Why in the hell is Vinnie giving you a violent skip?" I found my brain was better able to focus now that it was a matter of her safety.

"He's not considered violent unless he has a weapon, and thus lower bail," she stated.

"You said after the first time, you knew how to handle him," I reminded her. "What were you planning on doing this time?"

"After he threw me off the porch, I had to ask Ranger for help because it was the last day of his bond and I'd run out of time. Ranger went over and had a discussion of some sort with him, and the next morning when I was at the station, Eddie gave me the receipt for Richards. When I told him that I hadn't brought him in, Eddie said Richards had arrived that morning, dragging his leg behind him, and had turned himself in, asking for them to give me the credit.

"So Ranger told me the next time I got his file to tell Richards that I could drive him in now, or he could wait and Ranger would stop back by for another chat. That should do it," she said, finishing her story. She quickly bit into her pizza once more, as though she couldn't wait another second to have her mouth filled with grease and cheese.

While I was glad to know that Richards had been taught a little lesson by Ranger, I was still hesitant to believe it would work out as simply as Stephanie seemed to believe it would.

"How long do you have on him?" Lester asked, wiping his hands on his napkin and leaving his last slice of pizza only partially eaten. I knew he was capable of finishing it, but something told me the thought of a skip hurting Stephanie had effectively rid him of his appetite.

"I think I have a week for him, so I was going to wait until last to pay his porch another visit," she told us, putting my mind at least partially at ease.

Lester sat back in the booth and stretched out so that his knee bumped against mine. I pressed my leg into his as a way to increase the contact, needing to know he was beside me to help hold my anger in check.

"When can those stitches come out?" Les asked, looking at me, but pointing toward Stephanie.

"A week to ten days," I replied with the standard answer to that question.

"Why don't we go together to pick up Richards next Friday? Your stitches will be out by then, and we can back you up in case Ranger's name doesn't have much effect," Lester suggested.

It was a brave move, to take over one of her cases when she hadn't specifically asked for help, but I found myself holding my breath, hoping she'd agree.

She stared at Lester's plate for a minute, before shrugging and saying, "Okay. As long as I get to do the talking first, then you guys can ride along."

We both smiled in return. We allowed the conversation to turn lighter, talking about random stuff just to see her smile. But after spending nearly two hours at the restaurant, we had to close out our time together.

I threw some money on the table for a tip while Lester picked up the check and walked off to the register to cover our meal. Steph seemed surprised that we were paying for her as well. That forced me to wonder how poorly she had been treated by other people, if she assumed we'd ask her to lunch and then expect her to pay for her own meal.

I put my hand at the small of her back, careful not to push, but wanting to let her know I was right behind her, willing to follow wherever she went. We moved out to the parking lot, and I walked her over to her car.

"Thanks for lunch, guys," she said, always having such impeccable manners.

"Our pleasure, Beautiful," Les replied, running his index finger down the left side of her check.

I mirrored his action on the right side and watched a beautiful blush spread over her face from the contact.

We got in our SUV and waited until she had pulled safely out of the parking lot to put the truck in drive.

As I turned into the garage a few minutes later, Lester broke the silence and asked, "You have anything pressing for the next half hour?"

"No, I'm free," I assured him, hoping he was asking because he wanted us to stop by our apartment on our way upstairs.

"Thank God," he replied on an exhale. "I hadn't thought about the downside of my plan to spend more time around Stephanie."

"What's the downside?" I asked, feeling a little disappointed that he might not be thinking about blowing off some steam like I was.

"My dick is so hard, I think I could drive nails with it. It's been over five years since anything other than you had this kind of effect on me, but one pizza date has me desperate to get you naked," he said, which only increased the pressure against my zipper.

We took the stairs, not wanting to risk anyone joining us on the elevator, and as soon as the door slammed shut, I heard the sound of his belt buckle jingle as an echo to my own, while we both sought to get our clothes off as quickly as possible.

Just before his lips touched mine, he said, "I have a feeling spending time with Stephanie is going to necessitate us doing this more often."

I ground my hips against his and replied, "Not that I'm complaining, but I thought we did it pretty often as it was."

He matched my pressure with some of his own. "It's a good thing we're in good shape, then."

We were a little off about how long we needed to fully release the effect of our time with Stephanie, but when I slowly walked to my office an hour and fifteen minutes later, it was with a grin on my face, leaving me thankful I tended to be left alone in the medical suite. There was no way I could explain why I was lit up like a Christmas tree, and I had no clue how to get the goofy expression off my face.


	3. Hunger Pains

_To the great JE, thank you for providing such wonderful characters for me to play with._

_Jenny (JenRar) thank you for your hard work as the beta on this story. Your up for anything attitude makes writing so much more fun._

_Dina (aydinbydin) thanks for letting me impose by sending you chapters to read before posting. Having someone remind me not to rush the pace of the story has been a huge help. _

**Chapter 3 – Hunger Pains**

_Stephanie's POV_

I sucked in my stomach to keep it from growling. I knew it would at least mute the sound so that Connie wouldn't ask why I was so hungry. I woke up early this morning, and I'd taken a chance on swinging by the bonds office to see if Connie had any new, easy files for me. I still had Richards but I'd promised Lester and Bobby that I wouldn't go after him until they could come with me. I'd seriously considered breaking that promise to get some grocery money, but in the end, I couldn't do it, because I knew it would disappoint them and I hated the idea of letting anyone else down.

Last weekend, I'd gotten Mooner rebonded, which had finished out my needed rent for the month. On Monday, I'd picked up Carla Stewart, who had stolen a candy bar, but I'd totally believed her when she said it wasn't her fault. She was starving when she entered the store, so she'd picked up a Snickers Bar to tide her over while shopping and put the wrapper in her purse. It took a long time to get through the grocery, and by the time she checked out she'd forgotten about the snack and didn't think to tell the cashier to add it to her bill. The fact that she'd been caught doing the same thing six times in the last three weeks caused the manager to call the police and have her arrested for shoplifting. When I began by saying I completely understood her position, she came along willingly. Well, actually, what I'd told her was that I understood her position and I had a king sized Snickers Bar in my car, and that's why she'd come along with me willingly.

Carla's bond was pretty low but I'd still walked out of the bank with enough to refill my pantry. I'd stopped at the gas station to fill up the tank of my little Fiat. That car would go forever on a tank of gas, and since the hood was neon green and the rest of the body was more of a deep hunter color, I'd gotten it for a steal.

The problem arose when I'd stopped by the grocery myself. I'd gone to the pet food isle first and picked up a bag of nuggets for Rex, and then had decided to treat the little guy right and got a big bag of synthetic shavings to keep him in style for the next three months. I'd been rounding the end of the aisle to hit the snack food area, when I'd literally run into the backside of my sister Valerie. When I'd stopped to apologize, I had seen that she'd had only a few things in her cart and she looked like she'd been crying.

I'd asked what was wrong, and she'd tried to play it off like she was just picking up a few things to tide them over until her regular grocery day. The radar that told me when I was being lied to went off. First of all, my sister inherited my mother's ability to always shop perfectly, meaning she never needed to pick up random items to tide them over between weekly trips to the grocery. And second, it was Thursday, which was her regular day to shop.

I'd called her on trying to pull one over on me, and she'd broken down. Realizing this was the 'Burg and people would assume the worst if they saw Valerie crying in the grocery store, I'd pulled her over to the toy aisle. I figured most of the busybodies in town wouldn't go down this row, because they would only buy their toys from Mr. Bester at Circus Town Toys, the best toy store in the 'Burg for the last fifty years.

"_Tell me what's wrong," I pushed, fishing a wrinkled, but relatively clean tissue out of my purse._

"_Albert has a big case he's been working on, but he hasn't gotten paid for it. He's got some regular clients that bring in enough for all our other expenses, but Mary Alice's class was going on a field trip to Newark and that cost fifty dollars. Then Angie tripped while trying to learn how to walk in my high heels and ripped the dress she was going to wear for picture day, so I had to get her something else for her school photo. Now I don't have enough left for groceries. Albert will get paid eventually, but I don't know if that means tomorrow, or two weeks from now. Dad already thinks my husband is a joke, and if I start showing up there with the girls for every meal, then I'll have to explain why. Albert will be totally mortified." As Valerie spoke, she continued to blot under her eyes. I noticed her mascara was only getting on the tissue and wondered how she was managing that. If it were me, I'd look like a raccoon by now._

_I looked back at my buggy and knew the two things I'd picked up wouldn't cost me much. I'd only needed twenty for gas, which meant I could still give her a hundred and fifty to cover some food. I put my hand in my purse and pulled the money out, folding it over several times to make it small enough for me to pass to her without anyone seeing it._

_I put my hand over hers with the cash in my palm. I felt like Ranger when he tipped the hostess at a fancy restaurant and got the best seat in the house. Only this was the Super Shop, and instead of a nice table, I knew Valerie would be buying milk and meat. Still, it was a pretty smooth move._

_Her eyes grew huge when she looked down at the folded up cash._

"_It's only a hundred and fifty, but you need it more than I do and whenever Albert gets paid, you can pay me back."_

_I figured I must have truly stunned her, because a tear rolled down her check and she didn't wipe it in time, causing a gray trail to appear as it moved down her face. She hugged me tightly, and I was overwhelmed at the contact. Valerie had definitely packed on the pounds, so there was plenty of her surrounding me. Plus, my family didn't hug, so it was unexpected and caught me off guard._

"_What are you going to do for food?" she pulled back and asked._

_I hoped I was a better liar than her when I said, "I was just here to get food for Rex"—a quick motion back to my buggy distracted her—"and I kept enough money to pay for that."_

_Her shoulders relaxed; she obviously believed what I was saying and appreciated the fact that she could now feed her family without worrying. "Thank you," she said, wiping her face once more and getting rid of all the evidence of how upset she had been earlier._

_We split up, and I noticed she looked into my buggy quickly and then smiled, obviously believing what I'd said about why I was here. Then she saw someone we went to school with and spoke loudly to say hello, as though she didn't have a care in the world._

I'd decided to try swiping dinner off my parents since I hadn't been there in a week, but when I'd called, my mother had said she and Dad were going out with some friends of theirs they hadn't seen in months and Grandma was going to Bingo at St. Michael's, so she wasn't cooking. I figured skipping dinner wouldn't be that big of a deal, but all I'd had yesterday was a turkey sandwich at RangeMan around eleven o'clock, and that was long gone by mid afternoon. Skipping breakfast this morning had left my stomach loudly announcing its empty condition.

Since Connie had nothing for me, either files or doughnuts, it looked like I was going to have to swing by RangeMan and hope Rodriguez wouldn't let me down. If I were running searches, then I could take food from the break-room without any guilt.

I drove over to Haywood and ran into Bobby when I stepped off the elevator. "Hey, Steph. You here to let me take those stitches out?"

"Yeah," I told him, having honestly forgotten about it since my stomach was a much bigger annoyance at the moment than the itch on my chest from the stitches. "I was going to run a few searches, grab a snack from the breakroom, and then come to find you."

"Then you may as well come with me now," he told me, before explaining, "Rodriguez is on vacation until Monday and we were all told to run our own checks on skips until he gets back, so there aren't any searches for you to do today, and Luis was doing some work on the ceiling in the break-room. He got dust all over the food in there, so Ella threw it all out and is cleaning before refreshing the stock in an hour or so."

Damn, maybe I could fill up on water. I'd read about people doing that to feel full when they were on diets. Maybe it would fool my stomach enough that it wouldn't yell out for help. "Let me just sneak in and get a water bottle," I said. "I'll meet you in your office in five minutes."

"All right." He smiled one of his killer grins at me. Bobby was a little more reserved than Lester, but his smile was just as stellar. "I'll give you five minutes but if you don't show, I'm going to take it personally."

I promised to find him and grabbed some water after confirming that the break-room was indeed devoid of food. Since it was the end of the month, Ella had cleaned out the fridge yesterday, and all it contained was a stick of artificial butter and some reduced fat mayonnaise.

I chugged the water while traveling down two floors to get to the medical ward. On the way down, I remembered Bobby kept Tootsie Roll Pops in his desk just for me and figured if I could sweet talk him out of a couple of them, that might be good enough to stop the noises coming from my midriff and take away the slight dizzy sensation I was trying to compensate for. I knew the guys were amazed at my appetite, but it was more of a curse than anything. Yes, I was blessed with some super metabolism but it meant I had to eat often to keep from getting weak.

I was about at the end of how long I could go without food without there being some kind of consequence. Hopefully, I could get to the sugar before I embarrassed myself too badly.

When I walked in, I didn't see Bobby, so I went to his desk and looked at it, trying to decide how much trouble I'd get into for helping myself.

Before I could work up the courage to pull open a drawer, Bobby appeared with a thick file in his hand. When he looked up and saw me standing there, he smiled and said, "Hey, Steph. Let's have a look at those stitches."

"Any chance I can have a lollipop first so I'm not thinking about what you're doing?" I asked, trying to be subtle.

He laughed. "You know the rules." He shut the folder and set it on his desk, before taking my hand and pulling me along to the exam table. "First you endure the medical stuff, and _then_ you can have a treat."

I couldn't come up with anything else to convince him without coming right out and saying I was desperate, so I let him lead me along. I wasn't expecting him to let go of my hand, and when he did, I looked up quickly to see what had happened. The movement of my head made me dizzy, which combined with my normal lack of grace, caused me to instantly trip over my own feet.

Bobby spun around and caught me with reflexes so fast, I didn't see how they were possible. "You okay?" he asked, clearly worried. His eyes looked at mine before he did a fast look down my body, coming back to stare at my eyes once more.

Before I could try to reassure him that I was fine, my stomach let loose with its loudest complaint yet.

"Holy shit, Beautiful," Lester said from the doorway. "You gotta to feed that beast before it tries to break free."

"I'll get right on that," I blurted out, feeling my cheeks warm as I stood there with Bobby's hands still supporting me, "as soon as Bobby gets these stitches out of me."

"That's why I'm here," Lester said, wagging his eyebrows at me in a manner so exaggerated, I had to laugh.

"You're going to take them out?" I asked, only partially teasing.

"No!" Bobby interrupted emphatically.

Then Lester clarified, "No, I'm only allowed to _play_ doctor, not do it for real. I'm here to keep you distracted so that you don't feel a thing while he gets those things out."

I let Bobby lead me over to the table and couldn't believe it when he put his hands on my hips, and then lifted me off the floor and up to the exam surface. It was like I weighed nothing. That was a secret fantasy I had, although I'd never admit to it.

I loved the idea of being carried around by the man I loved. For him to want to be that close to me that he'd literally sweep me off my feet and carry me off to bed. But reality is never like it is in a fairytale, and when I'd mentioned it once to Joe, he'd laughed and told me that with all the subs I'd put away that week, he wasn't sure he could sweep me off my feet. I'd never asked Ranger. I knew he wouldn't have trouble lifting me, but it never seemed like the right thing to ask of him. After all, that was pretty relationship-y stuff, and Ranger had always been perfectly clear that he didn't do relationships.

I agreed to lie down so that I wouldn't accidentally flinch, and then I put my hands over my stomach, hoping it would mute any noises that might try to escape.

I could hear little clips and I felt the occasional tug, but Bobby was gentle enough that nothing hurt, so I turned my head away from him and looked at Lester instead. His hair was a little spikier than normal today, which made me want to run my hands through it to crack some of the stiffness out.

"What are you looking at?" Lester asked, catching me dreaming about what his hair would actually feel like between my fingers.

I knew my face had turned back into a tomato, so there was no way to pass off my glazed expression as being deep in thought about my to-do list. Before I could answer, my stomach yelled out again. I lifted a hand up to cover my face.

Bobby stopped my hand, probably because I was getting in the way of his work, but instead of just stopping my movement, he pulled it over so that it was against his chest and held it to him there. "What's going on, Stephanie?"

I hated it when the guys used my full name. So many of them called me by silly nicknames that when I heard all three syllables, I automatically assumed I was in trouble.

Before I could reply, Lester picked up my other hand and mirrored Bobby's position. "When did you last eat?"

"You guys know I eat all the time." I tried to play it off casually but lying on my back with both hands captured, the shoulder shrug I gave them wasn't as effective.

"If that were true, your stomach wouldn't sound like you swallowed a lion," Lester disagreed.

"I didn't have any breakfast this morning because I was up early and went to the bonds office for some more files. I figured Connie would have doughnuts but she hadn't picked any up before she came in, so I came here instead." I hoped that would be enough to get them off my case.

Lester's hand relaxed a little, but Bobby tightened down even more. "And what did you have for dinner last night?" he pushed.

Damn my inability to lie convincingly to well trained ex-military men. "I was going to eat at my parents' house, but they decided to go out instead, so I didn't have dinner."

Lester's pressure tightened up again. "Why didn't you just grab a bite at home?"

"I hadn't been to the grocery lately, and I didn't have anything but a few moderately advanced science experiments and the last pieces of Rex's kibble," I answered, deciding to just own my shame and lay it out there.

"Why didn't you go to the grocery?" Bobby asked. "You got a couple of skips this week; you should have been okay for money."

I wanted to be annoyed at how pushy they were being, but both of their faces showed nothing but concern, so I couldn't really find it in me to get worked up.

I took a deep breath, and then told them about bumping into Valerie in the grocery yesterday and giving her my money. Some strange look passed between the two of them, and I was positive they were communicating, even though their mouths didn't open.

At the same moment, both of them shifted their hold on me so they freed up a hand each. They placed that hand on my cheek with the back of their fingers softly stroking me. I shut my eyes, trying very hard not to relax too much. Something about having them both comforting and caring for me was unnerving and even though it made me feel all gooey inside, I knew I was just their friend. This wasn't the way guys treated me when they wanted me, so I couldn't let myself get used to it.

When I opened my eyes and looked at Bobby and Lester's faces, I couldn't help but smile. These were two great men. I knew they were an item, even though nobody ever talked about it. A few times, I'd seen them touch each other and felt like I'd been given a gift to witness such an intimate moment. I hoped one day I could find something like what they had.

Lester spoke first and asked, "Why don't you and I go to the little diner down the street? They make a mean omelet, and have a feeling you won't fuss at me for getting one with real cheese and ham in it."

"And while you're doing that," Bobby said firmly, "I'm going to run to the store and pick up a few things that I'll drop off in your apartment, if you don't mind me doing so."

I noticed he was being very careful about not just saying that he was going to do it and taking away my ability to tell him to stay out of my home.

"You don't have to do that," I blurted out, not comfortable with pity.

"What does pity have to do with this?" Lester asked, pointing out that my internal editor had obviously passed out from the lack of nutrition. "We're doing this because we respect the hell out of you for taking care of your family, even at a sacrifice to yourself. It's not because we feel sorry for you – if anything, we admire you."

Well, when they put it like that, it certainly sounded better. "Okay," I agreed, getting another award winning grin from both of them. I pulled my hand away from Lester to point my index finger accusingly at Bobby. "But don't stock my pantry with yucky health food. I won't eat it, and it will just be wasted."

Bobby lifted the hand that had been pressed against his chest and placed it over his lips at my knuckles. "I promise I will not stuff your pantry with yucky health food. But neither will I fill it with sugar."

I pretended to be inconvenienced by his comment and replied, "I guess if that's the best you can offer, it's okay."

He worked quickly, removing the remaining stitches, and then put more greasy stuff on me before pressing a clean bandage over it. "Leave this on today, but tonight you should be good to let it go uncovered."

I nodded that I understood and smiled as he buttoned my shirt for me. A normal doctor would never do that, but I liked that Bobby made sure to put me back together completely. When he announced I was clear to go, I sat up quickly, swinging my legs around in one movement. I had to shut my eyes because the room continued to spin and my vision got a little cloudy on the edges.

I must have swayed too much, because Lester's hands caught my shoulders as he called out, "Bobby!"

I got the full fledged worry face from my favorite medic, who lifted my face to look in my eyes, "You dizzy?"

"A little." I tried to understate the truth so he wouldn't be as worried.

He walked over to his desk and opened the drawer, pulling out a lollipop and unwrapping it for me. Then he picked up a strange little square box and brought it over with him. He handed me the Tootsie Roll Pop and said, "Don't eat it yet."

After making some adjustments to the box and without warning me at all, he set one edge on my finger and pressed a button, making my skin sting like crazy. When he turned the box over, I looked down and saw a tiny drop of blood beginning to bead up. He used the opposite end of the box to suck up the blood, and then put a tissue where he'd pricked me so I could wipe off any additional drops that came up.

"I'm not diabetic," I told him, recognizing the machine as a more high tech version of one I'd seen people use to check their blood sugar levels.

"I know, but I'm curious how low your sugar is, not worried over how high it might be," he explained, just before it beeped that it was finished analyzing what it could from the tiny bit of blood.

Bobby wrapped his strong hand around mine and lifted the sucker to my mouth, instructing me to eat. He flipped the machine around and showed me the number sixty-one on the machine. Then he frowned and looked around, before going over to his medic bag and rummaging around until he came up with a granola bar. He opened it and broke off a bite size piece.

"Here," he said, indicating he wanted me to stop eating my sucker long enough to chew up the granola. I didn't really want to, but I was feeling shakier and knew I probably needed something.

"Good," he praised when I started chewing without complaint, and then he went back to his medicine cabinet and pulled out a short can of Sprite, popping the top on his way back over to the table. "I know it's warm, but go ahead and drink it anyway."

He was so serious that I didn't feel like I could disagree, so I took it from him. Unfortunately, my hand was shaking a little, so he took it back and lifted it to my mouth for me. I pulled back after taking a few big gulps. Sprite wasn't my favorite drink, but this was so much better than the water I'd tried to force on my stomach that I found it went down easily.

He stepped back again and picked the granola up once more, holding up a bite in front of my lips silently.

I took it, and then asked, "Does this mean I don't get a ham and cheese omelet?"

Both guys laughed a little, but neither really cracked up at my weak attempt at a joke.

"I'll get you as many omelets as you'd like," Lester promised me, still holding onto my shoulders.

Bobby then said, "You'll need the protein to help your body break down the sugar I'm giving you, but you're dangerously low now and we need to get it up so you don't pass out. You can't go this long without eating again, Stephanie. It's not good to strain your body by skipping meals, and your system in particular seems to crash hard without food at regular intervals. This number is well below what a fasting level should be." Then he lifted his hand to my cheek again and cupped my jaw, letting his thumb rub back and forth a few times, before adding, "I worry about you."

He didn't seem to be in a hurry to take his hand from my face. I wondered why life was so unfair that the only men who showed any interest in me were already in a relationship with each other.

Two hours later, I was back in my apartment, so full I didn't think I could make myself eat another bite. It was pure curiosity that forced me to look in the kitchen to see what Bobby had picked up.

There was a note hanging on the fridge with a magnet that read, _We'll pick you up in the morning and tackle Richards together. ~Bobby._

Beneath his name, he'd written his and Lester's cell phone numbers. I smiled at his thoughtfulness and opened the fridge, expecting to see a few things in there. I couldn't have been more wrong.

Every shelf was practically full. The two drawers at the bottom were stuffed – one with fruit and the other with vegetables. Even the little drawer that said cheese on the outside was filled with deli meat and several different kinds of cheeses. Seeing how overboard he'd gone made me a little nervous about continuing to look, but I opened the freezer and glanced in, grinning when I saw six little cartons from Ben and Jerry's. Closer inspection showed me he'd gotten their frozen yogurt instead of the ice cream, but I was pretty sure I could make myself eat it anyway by just staring at the two guys on the lid and telling myself it was ice cream.

I opened the cabinets beside the fridge and saw whole wheat bread, two big containers of peanut butter, several boxes of granola bars, and tons of other things, some of which I couldn't identify. Nothing looked overly healthy other than the fruits and vegetables, but I also didn't see any cookies, cakes, or fried food either. Still, in a pinch, I could eat any of this, I hoped, and based on the amount of food he'd brought, Bobby was planning on ensuring I ate well for at least the next month.

I whipped out my phone, punched in his number from the note, and sent him a text. I didn't really trust my voice if I'd tried to talk to him instead. _You've done way too much. Thank you for all the food._

I was still feeling fat and well fed, so I walked back over to the couch and let myself fall down dramatically on the cushions. I'd just shut my eyes when my phone vibrated. I pulled up my incoming message and saw Bobby had replied.

_There's__ no such thing as too much when it comes __to you__. See you in the morning_.

For whatever reason, it seemed God was looking out for me. I had a couple of hot guys willing to be nice to me, a large dollar skip was going down tomorrow, which would give me some money in the bank, and my apartment was jammed with food. I was a very lucky woman.

Now if I could just figure out why, despite all that, I felt lonely, I'd be a happy woman, too.


	4. Doughnuts and Take Downs

_Characters by JE, trouble by me._

_Jenny (JenRar) thanks for your encouragement and for trying to tame my run-on sentences as the beta on this story._

_Dina (aydinbydin) thank you for reading this chapter ahead of time and giving me your impressions. Obviously, I need all the help I can get._

**Chapter 4 – Doughnuts and Take Downs**

_Lester's POV_

Ever since our lunch at Pino's last week, I'd been looking forward to this day. It was all I could do to keep from bouncing on the balls of my feet while Bobby picked the locks to her apartment. Once we got in we sought out the woman who had become a daily fixture in our lives since we decided to try and apply a little subtle persuasion to let her know there were some men who could appreciate her just as she was.

I set the box of six Boston Cream doughnuts on the edge of the nightstand in Stephanie's bedroom. She was curled up on her side, facing the doorway and completely asleep under a thin sheet. Bobby made an uncharacteristically bold move and laid down beside her so that when she woke up, they'd be face to face.

When she didn't stir, I decided to follow suit and climbed up from the foot of the bed to spoon up behind her. Resting my head on my hand, I bent my arm at the elbow so I could see over the sleeping form in front of me to watch Bobby. I tried to keep it casual, but the second I mirrored her position and felt how perfectly she fit against my body – our knees bent at the same angle, her ass exactly in my now interested groin, and the top of her head at my shoulder – I found myself trying to get as close behind her as physically possible.

Bobby pushed back a few of the curls that had dared to cover her face and called her name quietly in an attempt to wake her gradually, hoping to avoid frightening her.

In response to his work, she made a very disgruntled sound, ducked her head farther down, as though trying to hide her face, and in the process, rubbed her ass more firmly against my even more interested crotch. This was going to make getting up hard, in more ways than one.

Even though her hair had stayed where he'd put it, I noticed Bobby run his fingers through it again and say, "Come on, Steph. It's time to get up."

She moaned and grabbed his hand to hold it tight against her chest, like a child would snuggle with a teddy bear.

I smiled at the expression on Bobby's face when Steph pulled his hand to rest between her breasts. He had been resting his head on that arm, and with his pedestal in a place I didn't think he was eager to pull it back from, he relaxed his head onto her pillow.

"This was a mistake," I whispered.

Bobby scowled at my word choice. "What are you talking about? We promised to help her."

"Not helping her. Climbing into bed with her. It feels too damn good to have her between us, and now I'm going to struggle to think about anything else," I confessed in a whisper, never holding the truth back from Bobby.

He got a smug look on his face and challenged, "I'll bet I can make you forget."

"I'll bet you could, too, for an hour or two, but then it would come back and I'd fantasize about what it would be like to have that exact same thing happen, but with Stephanie joining in," I told him, smiling when he shut his eyes and groaned.

He rolled his body away from Steph, keeping his arm in her grasp perfectly still, and flipped open the lid of her doughnuts, handing one to me first, before rolling over again to get another for himself. Normally, I'd never think of eating food I'd brought for her, but I needed to think about something other than the curve of her backside, and if I didn't have something in my hand, I knew I was going to break down and start rubbing her in ways that might make her uncomfortable.

"These things are good. No wonder she goes through so many of them," I admitted, trying to remember if I'd ever eaten this particular kind of doughnut before and drawing a blank.

I glanced over at Bobby, who was licking the cream filling from his thumb, and I realized my hips were pressing themselves even closer to Stephanie's ass. This was ridiculous. I had to get a little distance before I did something unforgivable.

Then I realized Bobby's face bore an expression I rarely saw on him, but dearly loved. I took a deep breath, not wanting to disturb him when he was so relaxed.

"You like this," I pointed out the obvious.

He looked at me as though the oxygen deprivation my brain was no doubt experiencing from the blood pooling so far south was doing permanent damage to my ability to think.

"You need a hobby," I ventured to state, while pointing at the box of doughnuts and opening my hand to indicate I needed another.

"What?" Bobby questioned as he rolled back to refill us both on breakfast.

"You know," I said around my first bite. "A hobby – an interest outside of work."

"I have hobbies," Bobby defended, stuffing half the doughnut in at once.

"Name one," I challenged, licking the chocolate icing off my fingers as he spoke.

"I read." He smiled as though he'd won this debate.

"You read health journals and medical textbooks, which are directly related to your job. It doesn't count," I scoffed, shutting down his first attempt at proving me wrong.

"All right. I exercise," he lamely offered.

"You do that because it's a requirement of your employment, and because of your extensive medical training, you know how beneficial it is for you," I said, shaking my head as I negated his second attempt.

"I take care of people." He was getting defensive, and as much as I didn't want to argue with Bobby, I needed him to see what I was saying was true.

"Are you really going to make me say it?" I wondered. "That's your job. Ranger pays you to take care of people."

"I do a lot more than Ranger pays me to do, and you know it," Bobby argued.

I softened my tone and tried to keep it at a whisper so that Stephanie didn't jolt awake to the sound of angry voices in her bed. "I know that, and what I'm trying to get through to you is that you preach a good sermon with everybody else, but with yourself, you just keep driving on. This is the first time I've seen you stop in weeks."

Bobby was quiet for a while, not bothering to disagree with me further. When he moved a little piece of hair from her shoulder, he let his hand stay against her arm for a moment and let out a long breath, obviously letting go of the tension he seemed to carry nearly constantly.

"That right there is what I'm talking about," I pointed out. "We've got to find a way to help you find this kind of chill more often."

"It's not so easy," he replied, not bothering to look away from Stephanie's peaceful, sleeping face. "You can't change who you are."

"Shit." I let that come out before I could stop it. "You know me well enough to know better than to accuse me of wanting to change you. You know I've got you – scars and all – and I don't think there's a damn thing wrong with who you are. I'm just saying that you run in high gear taking care of everyone else, and that sometimes, you need to let somebody else step up and help you a little."

Bobby let what I was saying sink in a little while, before saying, "Is that why you woke me up early, saying we needed to bring Stephanie doughnuts?"

I couldn't stop myself from chuckling. "Yeah, but I wanted to see her, too."

Bobby slowly moved his hand up and down Stephanie's upper arm. "I thought it might feel strange to have someone between us, but I don't feel any farther from you than I do at the apartment."

"It's all about who it is," I agreed, placing my hand on top of Bobby's darker one to share in touching her.

When Bobby began to move and lean toward me, I responding automatically, meeting him more than halfway to kiss him over her body. It wasn't the hard, heated kiss that we often shared, but was a softer meeting of the mouths, where we were assuring each other that no matter what happened in our pursuit of Stephanie, we would always have each other.

Just as it was beginning to get warm in her bedroom, Stephanie made a long moaning sound, forcing us to break up a rare tender moment.

Needing to think about anything other than kissing Bobby in a bed, I looked down and said, "It looks like Sleeping Beauty is awake."

She didn't open her eyes, but responded in a sexy voice, slightly deeper from sleep, "And she smells doughnuts. Please tell me that's not a dream, too."

Bobby spoke up before I could. "What do you mean, a dream, too?"

I guess her dreamy state kept her inhibitions from editing her thoughts. "I was dreaming that you guys were getting it on and you let me watch. Then I remembered who I was and how ridiculous that would be."

"Why is it ridiculous?" I asked her, not sure if I should be insulted or turned on by her comment.

She gave us a less than ladylike snort as a response, before adding, "Because it's me, and I'm definitely not the kind of girl that gets to be involved in anything like that."

Hope is a strange thing. You can easily keep it in check when you know you are living in your own fantasy world by telling yourself there is no evidence that what you dream about could ever exist in reality. But when a tiny phrase like what Stephanie had just thrown out there gives you even a tiny reason to think that your fantasy _could _become real, then the hope you'd controlled so easily begins to spiral and take bloom.

I could hear it in Bobby's voice as clear as it was in my heart. "Why couldn't you be involved?"

She seemed to be fading, but managed to shrug and say, "Nothing special here."

We were both too stunned to argue with her, and she quickly snuggled down, forcing my raging hard-on to endure being caressed by her sweet ass while she wiggled to just the right spot.

Realizing she'd fallen asleep and knowing that discussing this any further right now might be a mistake, I finally decided that I might not have any control over what Stephanie was willing to take on today, but I could at least control what was between my legs. I extracted myself from the bed and tossed out a quiet direction to Bobby that I would be right back, before locking myself in Stephanie's bathroom. I hated the thought of Bobby being forced to stay uncomfortable while I was in here getting relief, but the image of Bobby and Stephanie in bed was all it took to override my guilt and get my hand moving so that I could function again.

My finish time was so fast, I figured Bobby might second guess what he thought I was doing in her restroom. Still, I was pleased that getting my dick back in my pants was definitely easier with the quick blast off, so I flushed, washed my hands, and then pulled myself back together to rejoin them in her bedroom.

When I walked back in, Bobby was on his back, and it looked like Stephanie was attached to his side with her leg thrown over his crotch and her arm happily gripping a handful of shirt over his chest. For his part, Bobby looked pretty content in his new position, and I couldn't stop the smile that came over the fact that Mr. Health and Fitness was now eating his third Boston Cream.

I raised an eyebrow in question, and he said, "I don't even want to hear it. You left me with her in here to rub one off, and I had to do something." Then he glanced at his now empty hand and said, "You know, these things actually take the edge off. I wonder what they put in them?"

"You don't think that's why she eats so many of them, do you?" I asked, suddenly as interested in that little mystery as he was.

"She and Morelli have been apart for a few months now," Bobby pointed out the obvious.

"And Ranger's been in the wind since right before she and the cop split," I added for good measure.

"I don't have a chart," Bobby said, glancing longingly at the last doughnut in the box, "but it does seem like she's been eating more of these things since they both left her alone."

Without thinking about it, I grabbed the last sweet treat and finished it off in two enormous bites.

Bobby looked stricken. "What in the hell are you doing?"

My plan was now growing more clear as I swallowed down the last of the sugar. "I'm not going to be replaced by a freaking doughnut."

Bobby grinned, obviously understanding my plan that if Stephanie used sugar to keep her cravings for sex down, then we definitely wanted to put an end to that in order to help sway the deck in our favor. We'd never push her into something she didn't want, but if there was a way to make her think about it sooner, rather than much later, then we were both all for that.

"You'd better hide the box," Bobby advised. "It's one thing to not bring her anything, but it's something else entirely to confess that we didn't wait for her and we ate them all instead."

I made quick work of getting rid of the evidence, and then I decided to have a little mercy on Bobby. I climbed back behind Stephanie and pulled her fingers off his shirt. "Take a minute," I said, letting my eyes trail down to his bulging zipper.

He looked like he wanted to object or say he didn't need any relief, but Stephanie made a sudden change in position, spinning so that her leg was over my hip and her ass was pressed against his side. Bobby took one look at her backside, now completely uncovered from the sheet that had moved farther down with each move she made and revealing a thin pair of tiny boxers as the only barrier to her pale skin.

I watched him struggle for less than three seconds, before he nodded and got up in a rush to the bathroom, the click of the lock telling me more than any lame excuses he might have tried to feed me.

I took the moment alone to look at the woman resting in my arms, and I realized that even asleep, with her magnetic eyes hidden and her hair going every possible direction, she was still a beautiful woman. Hell, the idea of being able to wake up with a view like this every day was quickly getting me in a state where I might need to follow Bobby and have another go at controlling the beast trying to break free.

I heard Bobby washing his hands and figured I should make a more concerted effort to wake Stephanie up. As much fun as it was to hold her in my arms, I knew we had plans for today, and I didn't want to waste all the time we had with her sleeping. I ran my index finger around her hairline, and then down her jaw, before placing a kiss on her forehead.

"Come on, Beautiful. It's time to rise and shine."

"Don't want to," she complained.

When Bobby left the bathroom, he wisely didn't come back in here. I could hear him puttering around in her kitchen. The guy was a really good cook, so I was guessing he was cooking her something to make up for stealing her doughnuts. I decided to use that as leverage.

"Breakfast will be ready soon, and you probably want time to shower and get dressed first."

She made a noise that I knew meant I was getting to her. I kept my hand moving as she slowly returned to the land of the living, and when her eyes opened, I tried to tell myself it was a good thing she was awake, but I was still disappointed that it meant my time holding her was over.

Bobby came in with a towel flung over his shoulder and leaned against the door frame. He looked so relaxed here, and I knew that if I cared about him at all, I owed it to him to be sure he had that look on his face more often. In truth, there were times when just keeping ourselves functioning seemed to be enough, but now, I was tired of just functioning; I wanted to live, and everything that went with it. I wanted this woman in my arms for all time. I wanted that look on my partner's face every day, and I wanted the three of us to be together. What I didn't know was what to do about it.

She turned slightly to see what I was looking at and smiled at Bobby in greeting. "I thought it was just a dream that you were both here."

"Nah," he told her. "We tend to come as a package deal."

"What a package..." She smiled in a rare display of flirting.

"Get ready, and when you're done, we'll have breakfast before heading out to get the bad guy," Bobby said, giving her the motivation necessary to get up.

I followed Bobby into the kitchen and watched him abusing some eggs with a fork. I glanced around her kitchen and realized it was probably because Stephanie didn't own a whisk. In all the time I'd known her, the only time she ate something homemade was if Ella or her mother made it. I had a feeling her kitchen wasn't all that well stocked.

I was feeling a little jittery, so I opened the cabinet, looking for something to take the sugar rush off, and saw all kinds of food we didn't keep in our apartment. "Peanut butter?" I asked, holding up the jar for him to admit he'd purchased it.

"I couldn't put all health food in her pantry, or she wouldn't have eaten it. I had to get healthier versions of most of what I bought but still work in some of her favorites, as well. She seems to use that stuff as a primary source of protein, so I had to get it," he explained, digging around for something from her fridge and giving me a view of his ass, framed in his cargos as he bent over.

I realized I was definitely guilty of taking my partner for granted. We'd seen each other in the same places, in the same ways, for so long that I didn't take the time to really appreciate him for the good looking and well built man that he was. Bobby was an inch shorter than I was, but his shoulders were wider. We wore the same pants, but his shirts were bigger because of the extra muscle on his frame. And, still up in the air like he had it now, with the cotton blend pulled tightly over it, his ass was one of his best qualities.

Walking up behind him, I let my palms grab onto his ass and grip the muscle there. He stood up slowly, and I didn't move an inch to give him room.

"You realize we have work to do today, right?" he challenged without trying to get away.

"We're helping Steph, which I hardly consider work," I corrected him. "And then we're off all day, so I am putting you on notice that the next time you flaunt this ass in front of me, I'm going to do more than just grab it."

He made my favorite noise that was a cross between a short moan and a low growl, and I knew he would let me do anything I wanted to later tonight. Fortunately, the bathroom door opened, and the noise brought us both back to the fact that we were not alone in our apartment.

I saw a file like what Connie prepped for skips sitting on Steph's little table, and I used that as a distraction to focus on so I didn't lose control again. Alfonso Richards was thirty-nine and wanted for his seventh robbery. This time, it was at a liquor store, but he'd knocked off three convenience stores, two bakeries, and a hardware store before. Each time, he'd just walked in, knocked out the cashier with a single blow to the head, and then taken the cash from the open register. How he was back on the streets with so many priors was beyond me.

Her apartment phone began ringing and we heard her make a sound of frustration before calling out to us, "Just let the machine get it."

It took two more rings before we heard her pre-recorded message floating through the air, followed by the short beep. Then a familiar voice filled the air.

"Stephanie, this your mother. Valerie and Albert are coming over tonight for dinner, and I'll expect you here before six. Albert finished a big case this week, and we're celebrating. Maybe having you here where you can see how nice it is to have a husband who provides for his wife will help you to reconsider the rude behavior you've been giving to poor Joseph. You're not getting any younger, and I think you've played at that job long enough. It's time to start thinking about settling down so you can have a life. Don't be late, or you'll ruin dinner for everyone by drying it out."

When the machine beeped again to indicate the message was over, I looked at Bobby, who appeared to be cataloging all the different ways he could make Mrs. Plum disappear without anyone suspecting our involvement. I'd heard Stephanie joke about her mother's annoying phone messages and pressures to just give into the life she was raised for, but until I heard it with my own ears, I couldn't believe that a mother would be that cruel.

Steph came out half a minute later, glanced at the blinking light, and then at us before saying, "Let me guess. Dinner tonight at six, and some reference to me not getting any younger and it's time for me to settle down, right?"

"Pretty much," I confirmed, before adding, "Only she nagged a bit and was a lot bitchier in how she said it."

"Cool, then I don't have to listen to it," she stated in a strangely detached way, before reaching over and deleting the unheard message.

"So what's the plan?" Steph asked, smiling when Bobby turned around and handed her a plate with sausage, eggs, and toast on it.

He handed me another plate with the exact same serving he'd taken for himself, which was half what we would usually eat, but I knew he was compensating for the half dozen Boston Creams we'd plowed through earlier.

When she was done, Stephanie thanked him for cooking her real food and not forcing her to eat twigs and berries. He gave a non-committal response and began washing the dishes. I knew him; the sausage was either turkey, or at the very least, reduced fat. The pile of eggs was probably three whites and only one yolk for color. And the toast had no sugar added fruit preserves on it to keep you from missing the fact that there was no butter.

We picked up the file, and then followed her to the parking lot, where she directed us to Richards' house. His truck was parked at the front, so I assumed that meant he was home.

"How do you want to handle this?" I asked, remembering her condition when she agreed to let us come along was that she wanted to do the talking.

"I'd love to see if he'll come with me before having you guys threaten him," she stated, a little unsure.

"We'll be at the side of the house." Bobby pointed to the alcove, where we could stay out of his line of vision, but still keep a visual on Stephanie and be within twenty feet of the front door if we had to rush to her aid. "And we'll hear every word. As long as Richards cooperates, we won't interfere."

"But the second he so much as looks at you in a threatening way, we're moving in," I added, wanting to be sure she was prepared for us to help.

She claimed to understand, so we slipped into position ahead of her, and then waited on alert as she knocked on the door. It swung open to reveal a guy much bigger and uglier than his mug shot indicated was possible.

"Mr. Richards, I'm Stephanie Plum with Vincent Plum Bail Bonds, and you missed your court date, so I'm here to take you back to the station to get rebonded." She sounded so friendly, I felt like she could have been offering to sell him Girl Scout cookies and not a trip back to the slammer.

"I ain't going to jail," Richards said.

"Ranger Manoso asked me to call him if you felt that his assistance was required to get you there," she added, still sounding chipper.

He took two steps closer and repeated, "I ain't going to jail. You can tell Manoso that the next time he sends you to bring me in, I'll send you flying off the porch again."

"Let's roll," Bobby said, an edge to his voice that made me a little nervous.

I tended to be the more out there of the two of us. I got mad faster, and as such, I would get louder and rowdier much more often. Bobby's fuse was definitely longer than mine, so he didn't tend to have so many mini-anger bursts throughout the day like I did. Since he kept a much tighter control on his emotions, when he did get angry, it was a volcanic-like explosion that would burn anything that came close. I knew he wouldn't want Stephanie to see him lose control like that, so I had to be sure I got to Richards first. I took off at a run instead of the intimating stroll I'd been planning on, and when I bounded onto the porch behind Stephanie with a single leap, she jumped from the shock of it and Richards took a big step backward.

"We're here to be sure she doesn't have any trouble getting you to the station. We don't need to call Manoso. We can deliver on our threats while we're here," I told him with an edge to my voice that meant I was getting close to losing the fragile grip on my own temper. I took a few slow breaths through my nose, willing myself to calm down before I did something stupid.

Bobby walked right past me and Steph and muscled Richards so his face was pressed against the dirty siding on his house. In one efficient movement, Bobby got his hands cuffed behind him, and he leaned in and said something in Richards' ear too soft for me to hear. But when he spun him around again, instructing him to walk to the waiting SUV, I couldn't help but notice that the front of Richards' pants was wet. Since I didn't recall Steph saying anything about an issue with incontinence for this skip, I had to assume whatever Bobby had said had made quite an impression.


	5. Panic

_The characters below are all courtesy of JE, not me._

_Jenny (JenRar) thank you so much for your steady work and encouragement as the beta on this story._

_Dina (aydinbydin), hope you enjoy the new stuff – most of it is because you kept all our sketches when this was more of a dream than a story._

**Chapter 5 - Panic**

_Bobby's POV_

"Do we need to do anything other than get the files from Vinnie's back to RangeMan?" I asked Lester as he pulled the opposite direction from the parking lot that I expected.

"Not for work, but I thought we could swing by and pick up some movies to watch later tonight," he suggested.

I was about to tell him that was all right by me, but both our phones gave a panic button alert. I ripped mine off and read it quickly before commanding, "Get to the 100 Block of Stark. Steph's signal just went off."

"Shit," Les exclaimed, turning it into a couple of syllables. "She never pushes her button, even when she's in real danger."

"Faster man, I've got a bad feeling about this," I couldn't help but add to the tension by stating. While he was flying through the red lights, I grabbed my ready packed medic bag and strapped it on my back.

Les used his skills developed at race car camp a couple of years ago to spin the truck to a stop, and we both jumped out with guns drawn. Years of experience guided our actions so that words weren't necessary. We spun around so that our backs were to each other as we scoped out the area, both for a sign of Stephanie and for any clue about what had caused her to call for help.

Two gun shots behind a store front had us both taking off in that direction without another thought about our own safety. We passed by the business and stepped into the alley just in time to see Stephanie toss the gun she'd been holding and then collapse on top of a body dressed in all black. I didn't know who she was working with, but based on the skull trim haircut, I'd lay money on that being Cal she was draped over.

We left stealth mode when we realized she'd hit someone and must have aimed well, because the big guy wasn't getting back up. I knew she'd heard us approaching, but instead of turning our direction, her head jerked up and looked in front of her. Based on our position, the building's side was blocking our view so that we couldn't see what had her face so hard.

Her posture went from lying over the man on the ground to fiercely protective of it. Everything about her body language was screaming for the new threat to get away. I heard a low voice tell her to just step away from the guy on the ground and she didn't have to get hurt.

"No," Stephanie firmly replied, leaving no doubt about her will to stay where she was.

I noticed her hand was moving, and at first glance, it looked like she was comforting the man she was protecting, but then she made a sudden lunge at whatever threat was in front of her, holding Cal's knife in her hand.

Lester let out another multisyllabic expletive, and we charged into the alley just in time to see the punk turn and run and Stephanie haul ass after him. She took a flying leap, and I held my breath that she hadn't mistimed it. She managed to plow into the back of his knees and bring him down. He punched at her face and then pulled her hair to get her off of him, but Steph's knee struck hard, and he had no choice but to double over in agony when she attempted to ram his balls up to his tonsils.

Les was right there to pick her up and run his hands over her body quickly, looking for injuries. I ignored them, knowing he could handle the guy writhing on the ground and comfort her so that I could handle one of our own on the pavement.

I heard Ram and Vince on the street, no doubt responding to the same panic alert we'd gotten, and called out to them so they could help with the guy Stephanie had shot. Knowing they'd handle that mess, I knelt over Cal and began looking him over for injuries. There was blood on his thigh, near the knee, but high enough that I didn't think it had damaged the joint. But Cal was out cold, which made no sense, because he'd survived injuries a lot worse than this.

I could hear Stephanie's voice rising to a near hysterical level and then her footsteps pounding as she ran to Cal's side. "Bobby, is he going to make it?"

I squeezed her hand, knowing better than to make promises beyond my control, and asked, "Can you tell me about what happened?"

"I was leaving the address I had for a skip and saw Cal walking down the street. I pulled over so I could say hi, but noticed he was following that guy." She pointed to the man currently yelling about being manhandled by Vince. "I saw Cal take off down the street, and when he started running, I hit my panic button and got out to follow them."

"Why did you hit the button then?" Les asked, standing right behind her at an angle to shield her eyes from the sun.

"I don't know. Something was off, and I had a feeling something horrible was about to go wrong," she admitted, proving once again how wonderful she really was.

We often wondered why she didn't hit her panic button when she was in danger, but when she had nothing more than a hunch to go off of, she didn't hesitate to hit it to protect one of us.

"I came around the corner just in time to see Cal pull his weapon, but the guy fired first and hit Cal's leg so that he went down."

Big tears were streaming down her face, but I knew she needed to get this out, and the strong pulse I was getting from Cal told me he was okay for another few seconds so that we'd have time for the whole story.

"I guess when the guy saw me, he panicked and fired again, hitting Cal right in the chest and knocking him the rest of the way down so that he hit his head on the pavement." Her hand was shaking, but she pulled out of my grasp to run her fingers over the tattoo on the front of Cal's head.

Knowing he'd been hit on the chest and seeing his current state with no blood there told me he was wearing a vest and that's what had taken the bullet. The impact against the Kevlar had probably knocked Cal back so that his head hit the concrete hard enough to produce the unconscious man in front of me now. I ripped his shirt open and found the hole in the vest easily, and then I tore the straps so that I could reach underneath and verify the bullet hadn't gone through.

Damn, it was protruding out the back, but it hadn't broken free. The vest had done what it was supposed to, but Cal was going to have one hell of a bruised chest from that close of a call.

"How close was the gunman standing?" I wondered.

She pointed to a puddle on the ground four feet away and said, "Just beyond that water."

Cal was damn lucky that the vest was able to catch it at all, being at such close proximity. And we were all lucky the damn shooter hadn't decided to try taking her out, too. Being so close to Cal, it's a freaking miracle that she wasn't hit at the same time.

When Ram and Vince passed by, I saw they were each carting an assailant to the waiting SUVs.

When Stephanie realized what they were doing, she covered her mouth with her hands and sucked in a huge breath. "Oh shit, I shot him, didn't I?"

Ram turned around and smiled. "You certainly did, Bomber. Once in the shoulder and once in the leg, just above the knee. Damn, you're a regular Annie Oakley. Why have you been hiding that all this time?"

I knew what he was getting at. I think most of us assumed because Stephanie hated her gun that she was no good with it. Apparently, skill wasn't the issue; it was just comfort, or helping her to see past the death it can represent to see it as a tool for protection as well. Whatever it was, I was glad to know that if it came down to it, she could hold her own and take care of business.

Lester said something, and the guys moved on, hauling the scum with them. I returned my attention to Cal, numbing his leg so that when he woke, he wouldn't have to suffer, and then completing my exam on his chest, breathing a sign of relief that despite the huge discoloration already appearing, he didn't seem to have any broken ribs.

When Cal made a sound indicating he was about to snap back, Stephanie flung herself over his chest before I could hold her back with a warning that even if the bullet hadn't broken the skin, he was still going to be in pain. Cal's eyes shot open then as he sucked in a breath. His arms came around Steph reflexively, and his head spun back to look where the threat had been before he went down.

She was sobbing and apologizing, although I had no clue why she was sorry. From where I was standing, Cal should be thanking her for saving his life. Eventually, he got her to settle down and began taking control of the conversation, saying the exact things I wanted her to hear. I don't think she believed him, but at least she wasn't sobbing. I swear, I'd heard all kinds of sounds in battle and on the streets, and nothing tore at me like hearing her cry.

I heard a siren draw closer, and Lester said he'd get the EMTs and bring them back to carry Cal to St. Francis. I began packing up my bag, knowing we needed to get him to the hospital and realizing there was nothing else I could do for him at the moment.

"Bobby, can you take care of his leg?" Steph asked, showing her concern about the injury if it required a trip to the hospital.

I grimaced. I could have, based on the way it looked, but the circumstances were such that it didn't make sense for me to. "We need the docs at the hospital to document the damage so that we have it on file officially as explanation for why the self defense shots his gun fired were necessary."

"You're going to the hospital because of me?" she asked, beginning to draw air in a little quickly again.

"No, angel..." Cal began struggling to sit up. "I'm going because I took a slug to the leg and it's faster for the ER to deal with it. I'm sure Bobby's got the skills to do it, but not all of us see the hospital as an evil place. The doctors can get me all patched up, prescribe some great little pills to everything feel better, and then Bobby can bust me out so that I don't have to spend the night in those horrible, baby-sized beds."

"I'll come check on you tomorrow," she promised as the EMTs worked to help Cal onto a stretcher.

"You'd better, so I can try to thank you for watching out for me," he told her with a smile. "We can watch cartoons together, and if the pills are good enough, they'll be twice as funny."

She sniffed from the crying and tried to smile at his remark. "It won't help me any. You'll be the only one on the pills."

"True, but I'll bet I can get you cracking up with me just the same," he replied as they strapped him to the gurney and began wheeling him away.

I stepped over to Stephanie and kissed her forehead, hating that I had to leave her like this, literally with blood on her hands, but I had to go with Cal. His injury wasn't life threatening, but we depended on our legs to be at a hundred percent, so there was a short list of surgeons RangeMan allowed to go cutting on us to extract bullets, and it was my job to be sure the right one got the call.

"I've got to ride with Cal," I told her with my mouth still on her skin. "Call me if you need anything," I finished, before forcing myself to step away. I slowed down as I passed by Lester, and he gave me a firm nod, pledging to stay with her until all was well.

Four hours later, Cal was being wheeled to my waiting Explorer so I could get him settled in his apartment. He'd come through surgery all right, only to have a post op reaction to the anesthesia. It had taken them longer to settle his stomach than it had to repair the damage from the bullet.

Cal did score a small supply of the pills he was joking about, so I got him settled and drugged before telling him he could call me if he needed anything and finally getting to my phone to make the call I'd put off as long as I could.

"Hey, man," Lester's voice came through, sounding relieved to hear from me.

I gave him the run down of everything at the hospital, the cops, the doctors, and Cal's condition, and then I asked about Stephanie.

I heard a whistle at first as a response, and then he gave me some more helpful details. "She was torn up at first, so I got her calmed down, and then I took her back to her apartment and waited while she took the world's longest shower. I was debating picking the lock and going in before I finally heard the water shut off. When she came out, I knew she'd been crying, but she was selling it hard that she was okay now and that I could go. Finally, I told her I'd give her some time alone, but that you and I were going to bring dinner tonight, along with some movies, and she needed to resign herself to spending the night with the two best looking men in Trenton."

"How did that offer go over?" I wondered, thrilled that he'd already given us a reason to check up on her.

"She told me not to bring anything healthy, and she'd consider letting us in," he said with a laugh.

I made my way to the apartment, needing to shower and change to get Cal's blood off me, and realized Lester was talking to me from our den. We both hung up when we saw each other and froze until the click of the door announced we were securely out of the public eye.

That lock was all I needed to move, and it sounded like rocks colliding when our bodies hit in the middle of the room. We had been through a scare today, not knowing who had been hit and having to tone down our adrenaline to handle the fallout after the fight without scaring Stephanie in the process. We needed to get the left over hormones out somehow, and hard and fast was what we seemed to specialize in during a time like this.

Between our history of knowing exactly what needed to be done and the desperation of the situation, we had either taken off or ripped off all our clothes in a matter of seconds. Breathing heavy, despite the lack of physical exertion, I knew when we came together, it was going to be primal, and that was exactly what I needed.

True enough, forty minutes later, my back was sore, but my mind was calm. I was laying there, my legs entwined with Lester's in a state Stephanie would refer to as blissed out.

I felt him take a long, slow, deep breath and when he let it out, he made a slightly audible sigh, which was a compliment of the highest degree. "Shit," he said with a smile. "That was exactly what I needed."

"Me, too," I agreed.

"Can you believe Steph's diving tackle today?" I blurted out, not able to make my eyes focus, but for some reason thinking I was capable of handling conversation instead.

Lester made a sound that told me he knew exactly what I was talking about. "For a minute, I thought she'd leapt too early and was going to plant it face first on the concrete."

"How did she know to go for his knees? I wondered.

Les laughed and responded, "Man, screw the knees. When the guy grabbed her hair to pull her off, she went straight for his balls. Why did she do that as a reflex?"

"I'm guessing that's something a woman is just born knowing how to do. It's a great equalizer to make up for us being the stronger sex." I felt as though a little biological evidence would make a better argument in my favor.

Les made a sputtering noise, obviously not buying what I'd said. "My ass! He had more muscle, but did you see her face? She was definitely more powerful than the skip."

Comfortable silence descended for a few minutes, before I asked, "Do you ever wonder if she approaches everything with that same determination?"

This time, my partner moaned before venturing, "This is Stephanie we're talking about. When she sets her mind to it, there's no talking her out of it."

Curious how to apply that possibility to daily life instead of just a high stress situation, I rambled, "So, as an example, let's say she decided that somebody – hypothetically...you – needed to stop being so uptight and in control and she set it as her mission to make you snap. How do you think she'd go about it?"

He took a minute to consider my words. "Well, I guess she'd start by trying to get my attention, maybe sitting in my lap so I couldn't ignore her."

I had to correct him. "No, not sitting in it. Straddling it with her legs on either side of yours, and her hot little center right over your—"

Lester jumped in to interrupt me, "How much time do you spend thinking about this shit?"

I guess I was too relaxed to censure myself, because I answered, "More than I should, and a hell of lot more than I'm confessing to you. Are you telling me when your mind drifts, it never goes to her?"

I forced my eyes open and got a view of one of his stellar grins before he realized I'd seen his honest reaction. "Is this your way of saying there's something missing here?" He used his index finger to point between us, with an eyebrow raised, as though worried about the response.

I grabbed his finger and held it tightly. "You know I think you're perfect, but lately...I don't know..." I felt like I should reassure him and try to explain, but I had no clue how to do it. "A lot of what we have together is because of what we've seen together. Nobody else understands and can handle what that does to a person. You get what I need when I wake up screaming because I've seen that kid's face again at night. And you know exactly how to force the shit away."

He softened instantly when I mentioned the one mission that still haunted me when it came back and screwed with my head. "Man, you do the same thing for me. You push until I let it go."

I nodded almost dismissively and kept going. "You fight me to protect me, and it works. Shit, I'd be a damn mess if you didn't. But have you ever wondered if it might be possible to ease the nightmares away and not have to fight them again and again?"

He seemed to consider it briefly before shaking his head and saying, "Man, that would take a long time. I don't know anything about easing...I'm a soldier first, then a lover." He gave me a smile and a wag of his eyebrows, trying to lighten the mood.

I usually let him change the subject when he tried, but I felt like I was about to make a point and wasn't ready to let it go. "It would take a long time. And it would take somebody who knows how to keep after it, no matter what. Someone like..."

He understood exactly what I was after and let out a sigh before completing my sentence. "...Stephanie."

Realizing this conversation sounded too one sided, I added, "And I think, if she'd let us, we could be good for her, too."

"Damn straight," he quickly chimed in, moving to rest his hand on my hip. "I mean, she's got to be tired of being passed around between the cop and my cousin."

I agreed. "It's like neither of them really wanted her, they just didn't want the other one to win the coveted prize."

"Or they only wanted parts of her, not the whole package," he added, proving he had given this a lot of thought, too.

I wondered aloud, "How do we let her know we'd love to be with her and there wouldn't be the passing back and forth, toying with her?"

Lester spoke quietly. "We'd keep her together and stop this shit of just taking whatever part they might want at the moment and trying to control the rest away."

Finishing the thought, I said, "We'd treasure the whole of her and want everything about her all at once and forever."

The room got quiet – too quiet – as we both imagined what that would be like.

Lester worried me when he broke the silence to say, "Man, nobody can ever know about this conversation."

"Why not?" I wondered if he was having second thoughts.

My fears were obviously unfounded, because he clarified, "We sound gay."

Obviously, he'd had enough of the heavy conversation, so I decided to give him a break. "You remember this morning when you had to walk a little slowly at first because of what I did to you last night?"

He gave me a perfect grin as he remembered how wild it had been when I basically attacked him when he walked out of the shower after his work out. "Oh yeah."

When he looked up at me, I gave him a look that basically said, "You are gay; get over it."

"Can we at least keep it to just us and Stephanie?" he offered as a compromise, pulling a grin from me.

We took our time getting ready for the evening, picked up some Chinese food as a healthier alternative to her demand that we not bring only good food to her apartment, and then grabbed the whole bag of movies Lester had already rented so we'd have plenty to choose from, before heading over to her place.

I knocked on the door and was shocked when she opened it right away. "Did you look to see who was knocking?" I couldn't stop from asking.

She rolled her eyes, "No, but I could smell the Chinese food, and since stalkers and crazies rarely bring me dinner first, I figured it was safe."

I wanted to tell her that she was the most important link in her safety plan, but knew this wasn't the time to get into that, so I lifted the bag. "As requested, dinner that isn't comprised of just healthy food."

She lifted her hand, palm out, to stop me and said, "Is something in there fried?"

I glanced over at Lester, who had placed the order, and he replied, "Yes, ma'am. Egg rolls and sweet and sour chicken."

She grinned and dropped her hand. "Then come on in, I'm starving."

I noticed as she walked, she was favoring her left leg slightly. It wasn't a full blown limp, but she was definitely walking differently on that side.

We pulled out all the boxes and served up what we wanted for dinner. I decided to keep my mouth shut about the fact that she only went for the fried stuff, totally skipping the stir fried vegetables and taking the fried rice over the brown, whole grain kind.

She looked at me and pointed at my plate with her fork. "Fried rice has veggies in it, so don't even think about forcing that stuff on me."

I grinned at her and promised, "Baby, I'd never force a thing on you." I knew my voice had dropped to what Les referred to as my _I want to get laid_ sound, but I hadn't done it on purpose and figured with the amount of time I spent fantasizing about her, that description wasn't that far off the mark.

She looked confused, as though she couldn't reconcile the flirty comment coming from me. Obviously, I had some work to do to help her see me as a possibility for something other than just medical care.

We talked through the destruction of the food, eventually relaxing Stephanie enough to join in our food swapping. I loved snow peas and hated mushrooms, so I took what I wanted off Lester's plate and gave him the hated fungus, since it was one of his favorites. She watched us closely for a while, and when I leaned back to pick on Lester for something, she moved closer and took the pineapple that remained from the sweet and sour chicken on my plate.

It was a small gesture, probably completely unintentional, but my chest swelled with hope that if she'd grown comfortable enough to take my food, I could only dream that in time, she might accept everything else I wanted to give her as well.


	6. Dreams

_JE created all the characters below. I'm just having fun at their expense._

_Jenny (JenRar) thank you for your tireless work as the beta on this story. I really appreciate your up for anything attitude._

__Dina (aydinbydin), thanks for your comments and for being a sounding board for my many questions and reality checks. __

**Chapter 6 - Dreams**

_Stephanie's POV_

Man, it was unnerving how easy it was to be comfortable about these two. I'd spent time with them in a big group, and I'd spent time with them individually, but I hadn't done as much with just them together as this last couple of weeks had allowed. And seeing them joking with each other, completely relaxed and not holding back, I could totally see why they'd been together so long. They obviously had a level of trust that had been tested and proven true over time. And even though they weren't overly affectionate, the occasional touch, or even a crooked smile as they snatched food off each other's plates, told me what they felt for each ran deep.

I was also seeing a side of Bobby I didn't know existed. Everybody knew Lester could play the part of a flirtatious playboy, but Bobby tended to be a little more serious. Tonight, they were equally goofy, and I felt like I was getting a rare glimpse into what they must be like together when they were in private. I felt honored that they were letting their guard down around me.

"Why don't we move this to someplace more comfortable," Lester suggested, "and see if there's anything in that bag we can all agree on watching?"

I jumped up and grabbed the dishes, hoping if I busied myself washing them that they would take the decision of what to watch upon themselves. I hated picking things like that, afraid that I'd choose something they wouldn't enjoy and they'd be forced to endure on my behalf. Nope, despite not really enjoying the domestic thing, either, I was more than happy to get my hands dirty in order to have them make the choice.

They went through a fast paced process of vetoing most everything in the bag, making me wonder who'd rented these movies in the first place, before finally settling on two.

"Hey, Beautiful, how about you come make the final call?" Lester suggested.

"No way," I bluntly refused, slowing down the rinsing of the dishes to be sure I was still covered by my excuse of what I was doing. "I'll be done in two minutes, and I expect to have something in the DVD player by then." I hoped by channeling someone assertive, they'd bend to my will.

"Damn," Bobby replied in a mock serious voice. "I think we'd better pick something."

When I walked into the den with a bottle of water for each of us, I noticed they were sitting at the two ends of my couch. It was a moderate-sized sofa, so there was definitely room between them for me, but I didn't want to assume they wanted me that close, so I pulled the coffee table out of the way and sat on the floor as the previews for upcoming releases began to roll. They were all movies that had been on video for several years, so I assumed whatever this was had to be old as well.

Before it could get to the feature film, the image stopped and the pause icon appeared in the upper right corner.

"What's wrong?" I asked, willing to get anything they needed.

Bobby spoke up first. "Why are you on the floor?"

"The chair is too far to the side to see the television straight on, so this is a better vantage point," I explained, confused about the question.

"But why didn't you sit on the couch with us?" Lester clarified.

"Oh..." I got it now. "Because there wasn't much room, and I didn't want to get between you guys for the movie."

They looked at each other and simultaneously took deep breaths. I watched their already snug t-shirts stretch tighter across their chests as the inhale expanded the hard planes there. Damn, they were good looking guys.

"Do you have an ice pack?" Bobby asked out of the blue.

I looked up, as though the answer were hiding on my ceiling, and did a quick mental check. "No, I don't think so."

"Can you grab the bag of frozen peas that I got last week?"

I figured he must have injured himself, so I got up and tried to hide the pain in my knee from where I'd landed on it tackling the creep that had shot Cal this morning.

I found the frozen vegetables he'd requested and thought it was strange how I hadn't even noticed it was in there when I'd first examined the food in my kitchen. I guess my mind knew there was no way in hell I'd ever eat peas that I'd cooked, so I hadn't bothered to catalogue it as a possibility.

When I made my way back to the den and handed him the bag of frozen pellets, he took my wrist and tugged while looking at the cushion between the two of them. I let him settle me down and covered up the shocked sound I made when he twisted me around so that my feet were in his lap, forcing my back to rest against Lester's side.

Then he put the ice cold vegetables on my hurt knee, which brought out a high pitched squeal, despite my efforts to hold it in. Even through yoga pants, that was freezing.

"You want me to look at it?" Bobby asked, bringing his serious side out again and making me instantly miss the more playful guy he'd been all through dinner.

"No, it's just bruised and a little scraped from where I fell on it this morning," I confessed, hoping he'd let it go and turn off the straight-faced medic mode he'd slipped back into.

His lips pressed together as he considered what I said, and then he announced, "You'll need to get out of those pants."

I was about to object, but Lester jumped in before I could. "Damn, man, usually you at least take a girl out on a date before trying to talk her out of her clothes. I know you're rusty at this, but that's a little on the fast side."

My face turned bright red, and if it was possible, Bobby's face seemed to darken as well while he stammered, "No…no, that's not what I…hell, Steph, I just need to see the whole knee, I didn't mean to imply that…"

Les took pity on us both and leaned over to smack Bobby's shoulder and say, "I'm just shitting you, man. We know that's not what you meant."

I grabbed the bottom of my pants and pulled it up and over my knee, thankful that they were made of enough spandex to easily allow for that kind of pulling. Bobby took the olive branch I was offering him and focused solely on the ugly, bruised joint in front of him, pressing on each of the sides and then bending it expertly, testing for tenderness. He made a face at one point that made me wonder what he was thinking, but he gave nothing away. I was able to keep from demanding what he was thinking by losing myself in looking at him up close. I don't know why I hadn't taken advantage of all the times he'd patched me up to stare at him. Bobby was a good looking guy and had his hair done up in corn rows at the moment, making me wonder who had done them and how long it had taken. I felt the peas go back on my knee and sucked in a quick breath before looking into his deep brown eyes.

"What were you thinking?" he asked, looking genuinely curious.

I blame the deep shade of brown staring at me for creating a space so safe that I didn't think before responding. "I was wondering what your hair would feel like."

He smiled, and I sucked in another breath, getting caught anew at how handsome he was, especially when his guard was down. He leaned forward, lowering his head slightly, and said, "You don't even need to ask. You can always feel free to touch me."

I didn't know what to say to that, but I wasn't going to miss such a golden opportunity, either. I lifted my hand, set it softly over the tightly braided hair, and then used just my middle fingertip to trace over one of the rows, thinking it was softer than I'd imagined it would be.

My family didn't do much touching. If you wanted someone to know you loved them, you offered them something to eat. I had been criticized enough growing up and told to stop hanging on my mom, and to a lesser degree my dad, so I'd learned to keep my hands to myself. In truth, I was always curious about how things felt, so I had to keep on guard that I didn't accidently reach out and touch someone when I shouldn't.

Being given free reign was too much to pass up, so I let myself touch several of the braids, following them to the back of his head, where a few beads had been put on before tying off the hair. I followed the row closest to his ear and then traced the shell of his ear, marveling again at how baby soft he was. I guess I'd spent so much time drooling over their hard muscles that I didn't think about how tender they could be, too.

As soon as that thought passed through my mind, both of the guys cracked up laughing.

Lester confirmed that I'd spoken the last part out loud. "Beautiful, I can guarantee that parts of us are just as hard you imagine. It's only the skin over it that's baby smooth."

The moment was slightly ruined by my big fat mouth, so I took my hand back and put it in my lap before asking, "Weren't you guys here to watch a movie?"

Lester put his arm around me and pulled me over to lean against his chest, while Bobby put his hand over the make shift ice pack on my knee and let the other hand rub up and down my uninjured leg. It didn't tickle at all, which was strange. I figured his medical training probably taught him how to touch people without making them jumpy. Of course, that didn't explain why my body was getting warmer, despite the presence of a block of ice on it.

The movie began, and the guys seemed to transfer their attention to it, so I fully relaxed, feeling slightly like a cat, just absorbing the attention being given to me. I knew I shouldn't allow them to do this, because it would end when the movie did, and then I'd have to go back to being the girl everybody liked to see, but no one really touched anymore. It only took a few seconds to realize I didn't have the strength to move and I knew I could examine why I was a leper in everyone's eyes later. Right now, I was comfortable, and since the guys seemed perfectly happy the way we were, I wasn't going to move until they made me.

I guess I took it a little too far, because I allowed myself to drift off, and when I woke up, I was back in my bed with the covers tucked around me. It was dark, and I was feeling cozy – and slightly confused about how I'd gotten here and what had woken me up, since a quick glance at the window showed it was still dark outside. Then I heard something coming from the other side of my bedroom door that sounded an awful lot like a fist fight. I jumped up and ran out to the living room to see what was going on.

I didn't understand the scene in front of me. Bobby was stretched out on the couch, with Lester straddling his waist. Lester's lower arms were pressing into Bobby's biceps, pinning them enough to restrict the movement without stopping it all together. He was calling out to his partner in a firm voice all the while taking the blows from Bobby's fist to his torso. I knew the hold he had on Bobby's arms was greatly reducing the strength of the hits, but it wasn't completely taking away the force he was capable of.

"What's going on?" I asked, feeling like I needed to warn Lester that I was gawking at them.

He didn't look up at me to reply, "He's just having one of his dreams. He'll fight it out and go back to sleep soon."

That was all I needed to know to move in closer.

"You need to stay back. He doesn't know where he is or who is around him, and it would kill him to think he hurt you," Lester said through gritted teeth.

I could see the strain it was putting on Lester to hold Bobby back, so I knelt at the edge of the couch behind Bobby's head where he couldn't reach me easily and put both my hands on his scalp. Then I made soft shushing noises, like a mother would to a fussing baby.

I felt like Lester was about to warn me again, but when I began to move my fingertips at his hair line, Bobby stopped fighting immediately and tilted his chin up so that I'd have easier access to his skin.

"That's right, big guy," I kept babbling. "You don't need to fight them anymore. It's just Stephanie and Lester, and you're okay."

His arms gradually lost the tension and eventually went limp against Lester's bracing. I kept touching and rambling until his head began to tilt to the side, telling me he had given up and was back asleep, but without the nightmare this time. When I was convinced he was out, I leaned forward and kissed the hair I had been stroking, and then plopped down Indian style on the floor.

"Does that happen a lot?" I asked Lester.

He rubbed his face with his hand, like he was gearing up for a discussion he wasn't entirely convinced he wanted to have. "I'd say between the two of us, we probably have one a week."

"Are yours like that, too?" I wondered, feeling like the darkness of the room made it easier to pry into things that were most certainly none of my business.

Les didn't answer right away, and I decided to try waiting him out, in the hope that he'd give me at least a partial response. Eventually, his eyes narrowed, like he was looking at something far away.

"What Bobby and I have is complicated," he whispered, moving so the floor so that he wasn't on top of the man he was talking about, but sitting across from me. "We've each been through enough shit that we were quickly becoming shells of the men we once were. I'm not complaining about it, and if I had to do it all over again, I doubt I'd make any different decisions, but the truth of it is, by the time we settled in at RangeMan, we were both a mess. We fought the bad guys all day, and at night, we refought the ones from our past. That kind of thing wears a man down over time, and we're no different than anyone else."

I wanted to interrupt and tell him he was so wrong about that last part, but I tried to keep my mouth shut, afraid that if I stopped him from talking that he wouldn't start up again, and I knew this was important.

"A few years ago when we got together, we realized what we shared helped us to function better. We didn't melt down and lose our control at work, and over time, we started to rest better at night, too. I think when we're together, we are so much healthier, because the two shells we were became meshed somehow and we made one whole man. It's still a flawed and damaged man, but we've learned to compensate for that."

I put my hand on Lester's, trying to encourage him that what he was saying, while hard to hear, wasn't scaring me away.

He looked at our hands and spoke once more. "Night time is when we are still at our most vulnerable, because our eyes close and we lose sight of the fact that there is someone out there to hang onto. When he's exhausted or when it's been too long since he let go, he tends to have the dreams. He's right back in the hell he's already survived, trying to make it through. We've tried all kinds of shit, but it seems to be best if I just keep him from hurting himself and let him get it out. The next morning, he'll be exhausted from the effort, but he doesn't wake up fixated on it the way he used to."

"How long does it usually last?" I wondered, unable to stop myself from blurting the question out.

Les shrugged. "It depends, but anywhere from a short five minutes to an hour or so."

"How can you hold him back that long?" I asked.

This time, he looked away. "We have a deal that we try for an hour, and if nothing else gets through, we have to end it."

"What does that mean?" I felt a little nervous at what he was suggesting.

"I would have let him go, waited for his arms to drop, and then hit that magic spot on his chin to knock him out," Les admitted.

I covered my mouth with my free hand, not wanting to say how horrible that sounded.

"It's no worse than when we spar in the ring, and it saves him from having to endure the dream for any longer," Les defended. "It's what he told me to do, and I've asked the same thing of him. We don't hold any grudges if it comes down to it."

"How often does it come to that?" I needed to know this answer.

"Half the time, I guess. Probably a little more than that with him, and little less with me, but on average – half," Les stated, not trying to sugar coat it. "We're already asleep, so it doesn't hurt us."

I pulled away the hand that had been hovering near my mouth to say, "I'm not worried about the person having the dream," I explained. "I was feeling badly for the person that has to hit the dreamer to knock them out. That must be horrible."

He opened his mouth to respond and then shut it, as though he was at a complete loss about what to say. Suddenly, his head lifted and he said, "You're incredible. You know that, right?"

I chuckled slightly and replied, "In case you haven't read the papers lately, that's not the commonly held opinion of my worth."

He put his index finger under my chin, forcing me to look up at him and stare into his eyes. "I don't give a shit what the rest of the world thinks. They're obviously misinformed and too damn lazy to see the truth in front of them. You're amazing, and I'm not going to let you say otherwise."

I held his gaze for a moment, wishing it were easier to believe him, but knowing one nice thing whispered in the middle of the night couldn't wash away years worth of the exact opposite said to my face during the day.

"I'm going to tell Bobby what you did for him," Les told me as he dropped his grip on my face.

"I just wanted to help," I explained. "I know what it's like to have dreams you need to escape, and I just did what I wished someone had done for me."

Then I heard Bobby's deep voice from the couch and jumped slightly, not realizing we'd gradually gotten louder as we spoke and had woken him. "Why didn't anybody ease your dreams?"

This was getting to be too much really quickly. There were certain things I didn't want to admit to myself, not to mention the two great guys in my living room. I shrugged and then remembered Bobby couldn't see me since he was still stretched out on the sofa.

"Nobody around at night but me and Rex, and he's not much of a soother," I said, trying to make light of it.

"What about the cop? You guys were together for a long time," Les jumped in.

I looked at the ceiling again, wishing it would somehow split open so I didn't have to confess the truth about me and Joe. Since it seemed to be especially stable at the moment, I took a deep breath and said, "Honestly, most nights with Joe, we'd do whatever we were going to do, and then one of us would go home. The periods where we were trying a little harder and I stayed at his house, he was usually working late nights and coming in when I was getting up. I think the only way we could get along well enough to live together was when we saw less of each other. It's pretty sad, actually."

Bobby's voice came from the couch again. "No, it's pathetic. No decent man would ever have you in his arms and let you go. That dude has serious issues if he went home when he could have been sleeping next to you."

There was a little voice in the back of my mind that noted that when I fell asleep on them, they'd put me in bed and then walked out, too, so it seemed to be a little bit of a double standard.

Lester then moved, bringing my attention back to him when he asked, "What about Ranger?"

My shoulders rose on their own at that question. "I don't really know. I don't remember ever having a nightmare when he was around. I guess the dreams knew better than to try and cross him." Then, because I was exhausted, my mouth kept on running. "Of course, he does get up before the crack of dawn, and since he usually slipped in well past my bed time, I don't know that I've spent an entire night with him, either."

"Ever?" Bobby asked, rolling over and pulling himself up so that his shin was on the armrest of the couch so that he could see me.

"Well, once, but that got ruined the next morning when he told me to patch things up with Joe," I responded.

I wished it hadn't been so dark so that I could better understand the strange sounds both of them made at that response. "He had you in bed all night, and when the sun came up, he told you to go back to the cop?" Lester repeated, like he was trying to verify he'd heard me right.

"Not my best morning," I replied.

"No, it was not _his_ best morning," Bobby corrected my opinion of what happened that day.

"My cousin is a good man, but he's got these rules he lives by," Lester seemed to want to explain, but wasn't sure how to.

I put my hand up to stop him. "It's all right, really. It was a long time ago, and Ranger was always up front with me that we did not have, nor could we ever have a relationship, so I can't fault him for just behaving in a way that matched what he'd already warned me was true."

"It still doesn't mean it was right," Bobby spoke up once more. After a few beats of silence went by, he spoke up once more. "Anybody want to tell me why we're talking about nightmares?"

Lester put his hand on Bobby's shoulder and squeezed. No words were spoken until Bobby started shaking his head from side to side, before saying, "Damn, I was hoping after chilling today, I'd be immune." He let his forehead rest on the sofa before adding, "This has monumentally bad idea written all over it."

"Want to know what got you out of it?" Lester asked, causing Bobby's head to snap up. Not waiting for a real answer, Les told him, "Stephanie heard the struggle out here and knelt right there to touch your face and talk to you. It took her maybe thirty seconds to calm you down, and after a couple of minutes, you were out cold."

"You didn't…" He left the question out there.

Les shook his head no. "Hadn't been near long enough, and then you just settled down."

They were silent, just looking at each other for long enough that I began to wonder if I was intruding on a personal moment. Then Bobby's head shifted in my direction.

"I could have hurt you."

"You wouldn't have," I blurted out. "Les was holding you, and I didn't put myself in front of your fists."

"You're amazing," he said on the heels of my words. "Fearless and…amazing."

I yawned as the rush from having been awakened began to wane, and as soon as I finished, Lester seemed to have the same need.

Bobby looked between the two of us and then announced, "All right, everybody, back to bed."

I didn't like the idea of being sent back to my room alone, but I respected that they might need some time without a third wheel, so I stood up and began walking to my room. I spun around to say goodnight and ran into Lester's hard chest. He kept me from falling over, catching my elbows and hanging onto them.

Bobby was right behind Lester and stepped out to put a hand on my arm as well. "You okay?" he asked, concerned about what stopped me.

I nodded and then explained, "I didn't expect you to be there, that's all."

They looked at each other quickly, before Bobby spoke on their behalf. "I did say we were all going to bed, and if you don't mind being between us like you were on the couch, I'm pretty sure your queen size mattress will fit us all for a few hours until the sun rises."

I climbed in and easily found a place that was perfectly comfortable when Bobby brought my face to rest on his shoulder and Lester put his hand on my hip. I might eventually begin to suffer from too much affection without follow through, but at this moment, I was so happy and peaceful that I knew it would be totally worth it.


	7. Entering the Twilight Zone

_I am using JE's creation for my own amusement._

_Jenny (JenRar) what an amazing writer, proofreader and cheerleader you are. Thank for giving of your time to help as the beta on this story._

_Dina (aydinbydin), thank you for not letting me drop this story when it was just an idea and for helping me to develop the guys enough to share their journey. _

**Chapter 7 – Entering the Twilight Zone**

_Lester's POV_

I walked into the break room, looking for a little snack before heading out with Ram to pick up a wife beater skip we'd gotten from Vinnie yesterday. Before I reached the basket of sandwich options, I saw Cal sitting at one of the tables, staring at his water bottle as though it had all the answers in the world printed on the label.

"What's doing, man?" I asked, hoping he was all right.

He shook his head and said, "I was filling my truck with gas at the station near Steph's apartment this morning."

I grabbed a chair and sat down, already not liking this conversation. I wasn't sure if it was because he was looking with some kind of longing in his eyes and using her name at the same time or not, but I was pretty sure that jealousy was just the tip of the iceburg of what I was feeling. "What happened?" I wondered, figuring just filling his tank hadn't put him in this kind of funk.

"Steph was there, too, and had gone in to get some snacks." He shook his head, probably thinking about her eating habits.

Bobby and I had been coming up with excuses to be near her at mealtimes in order to keep her eating healthier. Her junk food consumption had been at an all time low over the last three weeks, and I could swear her jeans were fitting a little better.

Cal spoke up again, taking my mind off Steph's ass hugging jeans and getting it back on what he was saying. "She had a little plastic bag filled up with all kinds of candy, but before she could get to her piece of shit car, another woman came out of the store and called her name. I watched them, and based on Steph's reaction, I figured she knew this woman and there wasn't a threat, so I tried not to spy on her, but they were talking loud and I could hear them."

There was a piece of me that wanted to remind him that he wasn't her keeper, but I told that part to shut up. If this mystery woman had turned out to be a threat, I would have been thanking him for watching over her. Hell, I didn't know how to reconcile these opposing sides. It was easier when Bobby was around, but he was in the field this morning with Vince.

"Anyway," Cal continued, "their conversation was mainly just catching up fluff, but then the woman changed her tone and said that she heard Stephanie's mother talking about her in the grocery that morning. Stephanie dropped her bag when she heard that. She picked it up, but I knew she was upset to hear that her mother had been talking about her in public like that."

I started flexing my fingers to keep from making a fist. As much as I wanted to punch Mrs. Plum, I had a feeling Stephanie wouldn't appreciate it.

"I guess Mrs. Plum had been telling the bitches in the store that she was determined to make her daughter see that spending time with thugs and chasing criminals around town was not acceptable, and she was sure once Steph gave this up that she and Joe would get back together and settle down. Steph was really loud in telling this woman that she and cop were done and they would never get back together. But when the woman called us thugs once more, Steph dropped her bag again so that she could lift her hand and point a finger in the woman's face. Then she started to yell that we were her closest friends and she wouldn't tolerate anybody calling us thugs, or killers, or anything else. She called us honorable. When the bitch said if Steph continued to hang out with us, she'd end up getting herself killed, Stephanie told her that she'd rather die with us by her side than live a long time shriveled up on the inside. Then she spun around, leaving her goodies on the pavement, and drove off."

Damn, wasn't that just like Stephanie? The tenderness of a woman, but the heart of a warrior all wrapped up in one sexy body. She refused to let someone insult us, even if it was true that we were killers. We might not enjoy taking lives, but every single one of us had done it.

"I tried to get her bag so that I could find her and give it back to her, but I'm so damn slow walking with this brace on my leg from the bullet a few weeks ago that a car came and ran over it before I could get there. I was trying to figure out if I could get away with buying her new candy and carrying it to her without her getting pissed that I was listening in on her conversation," Cal finished his confession.

I knew Bobby and I had been trying to help Steph get in a groove of eating healthier, or at the very least trying to handle her favorite sweets in moderation instead of gluttonous quantities. Plus, I didn't want Cal anywhere near Stephanie with that expression on his face that was a cross between concern and hero worship. Hopefully, in light of some of the terrible things I'd done in my life, the lie I was about to spin wouldn't be considered such a major offense in the big scheme of things.

"I don't know, man. Steph is really particular about her privacy. If she thinks you were there and heard the whole conversation, she's liable to be embarrassed, and then she'll try to avoid you. It's probably better to just file this one away and let it go," I advised, trying to sound casual about it.

When he said he was going to take my advice, I felt relived and decided I needed to get away from Cal before I caved from the guilt of misleading him and took back my suggestion.

Ram and I had the wife beater in the back of the Explorer in less than four minutes from the time we pulled up at his house. Honestly, it was a bit of a disappointment. I was looking forward to a good fight, but the guy who seemed to think beating on a woman was a good time didn't have the same balls when two guys who were built and packing showed up on his doorstep.

Bobby and I had been getting creative in spending time with Stephanie, and over the last fifteen days, we had been together for extensive periods every day. When we spent the whole night at her place last weekend, including that torturously wonderful four hours in her bed, it had changed things for Bobby and me. We'd both been slightly more on edge and struggling to hold back. We wanted her, and the more time we spent together, the more it was switching from just a yearning to a genuine need. Something had to change and soon.

Hell, Bobby and I were at each other every time we were alone in our apartment, but it was like laying a cool cloth on an itchy rash. It helped to relieve the worst of the symptoms, but your body still wanted you to just put your fingers on the right spot and scratch. I shook my head at that thought. Something told me Steph wouldn't appreciate being compared to a rash. But damn, if there wasn't a place in me that needed her and trying to substitute more sex with Bobby might be fun in the moment, but it wasn't touching that place that yearned for her. I'd feel guilty about thinking that way, but Bobby had already said the same thing to me the day before. What had started off as a "what if" situation was becoming a "must have," but for all we knew, Stephanie still looked at us the way she always had.

That thought was depressing enough that I went back upstairs to file the paperwork on the skip de jour that was now resting comfortably at the station. On the way to my cubicle, I passed Stephanie's and noticed she was engaged in a stare down with a Boston cream doughnut. I was impressed that she seemed to only have one and elected to interpret that as meaning she'd only purchased one, instead of the possibility that she'd already eaten the other five to make up the half dozen.

"Hey, Steph," I started, not even getting a glance up. That worried me enough that I tried again. "What's wrong?"

She glanced up at me and attempted to lie. "Nothing."

She is a monumentally bad liar because she blushes and looks away from you at the last second, proving she can't commit to whatever she's selling.

I knelt in front of her to level our faces and to keep her from having to look up at me. "Bullshit. Now let's try it again. What's wrong?"

"Did your parents approve of you going into the army?" she asked out of left field.

"I guess so... I know they were proud that I wanted to serve my country and make something of myself," I responded, hoping she'd give me a clue about where this was going.

"How about when you left active service? Were they disappointed that you stopped?" she followed up with an equally unhelpful question.

"No, they weren't disappointed. If anything, I think they were relieved that I wasn't going to be running the really dangerous missions anymore and would be slightly safer now," I guessed, realizing I'd never really asked my parents what they thought about my life.

"Do they know about you and Bobby?" she asked, throwing out another shocker. "I mean, that the two of you are…" Her face flushed slightly, and I knew she was struggling to come up with a term that described us other than lovers.

I decided to have a little mercy on her and filled in the blank. "…tight? Yeah, they know we're together."

"Do they care that you two are _tight_?" When she said the word, it was slightly tentative, as though testing it out to see how it worked.

I smiled. "I don't think so. I mean, years ago, I'm sure they had dreams that I'd settle down with a girl, get married, and have a big family of my own, but it didn't take them long to realize that shit wasn't going to happen with me, and as crazy as my life is, it's for the best that it didn't. But they've seen me level off since Bobby and I have been together, so they know it's a good thing and that I'm happy, so they're cool with it."

"How about Bobby's family?" she asked with impeccable timing, just as my favorite medic walked by, looking in her cubical and seeing me kneeling in front of her.

Steph shook her head, as though she couldn't believe he'd just appeared in front of her when she spoke his name. Still, she wasn't one to back down from getting her questions answered, so she laid it out for him. "Do your parents know that you and Lester are tight?"

I covered the smile on my face with my hand as Bobby ever so briefly glared at me, knowing that word choice came from me and not her, and probably wondering what strange sexual shit I'd been sharing. He managed to keep from looking rattled when he looked back at her and said, "Both my parents are dead, but my grandmother practically raised me anyway, and she knows. As far as she's concerned, being loved by anybody is a good thing, and she knows I'm better with Les than without him, so she's good with it."

The thumbnail of her right hand went between her teeth, where she began to worry it against her enamel.

Bobby couldn't handle it anymore and knelt beside me to level us all and asked, "What's going on, Steph? Why all the questions?"

She jerked her finger out of her mouth and looked embarrassed. "I'm sorry. I know you guys like to keep your private life locked up. I didn't mean to pry."

I wasn't having that, so I jumped in, "You know we don't give a shit about keeping our private life locked up – not with you. We just want to know what has you in such a state that you're staring down your doughnut and not even touching it."

Her eyes darted over to the doughnut, but she made no attempt to pick it up. "My parents don't like me."

Bobby scoffed. "Of course they do; they love you."

She shrugged at his words. "They love me, I suppose; I mean, I'm their daughter, so they have to. But they don't actually _like_ me."

"What's not to like?" I asked, intending to list all her good qualities, but she spoke over me before I could get going.

"They hate my job, they think I'm too independent and free speaking, they wish I'd just settle down and have a family and begin acting in a respectable way so that I wouldn't be such an embarrassment to them. We share nothing, other than genetics, so while they may love me, they don't actually like me – what I'm doing or who I am," she confessed, sounding more resigned to her words than angry about the injustice of it.

"I'm sure they think what they're saying is for your own good..." Bobby tried to put a more positive spin on it, but even I could tell he wasn't buying the shit he was selling.

"Maybe they're right. I mean, they're all I have in this world, and since they're older than me, maybe they are seeing things I can't and I'm just screwing up my life day by day. Maybe instead of continuing to fight them on it, I should just give in and accept that I'm not getting any younger, and if a husband and family is how I am going to be fulfilled, then I need to start looking for one." She was staring off into space with a glassy-eyed expression.

"If that's what your mother told you, then I hate to disrespect her, but she couldn't be more wrong," Bobby spoke up, saying what I'd been thinking, but without the harsh swearing that I'd been doing in my head.

"No, she's right. I'm alone, and if I push my family away, I'll have no one," she explained, looking up at us.

"You aren't alone," I jumped in. "You have us."

Bobby then added, "And we think you are wonderful exactly as you are. Do you _want_ a husband and children?"

I held my breath, waiting for that answer.

It took her a minute to think, before she admitted, "No, not at all. The idea of being a mother gives me a panic attack, and I've been married before, with the newspaper articles detailing how that didn't work out for me."

"What _do_ you want?" I wondered.

She looked down and brushed at a spot on her jeans. "I just want someone to think I'm okay as I am and not push me to change. And if that same person could prove their words by being faithful to me and treating me special, then I'd be happy. I need a commitment, a relationship, but a ring isn't what I'm after. I've seen how that can end, and all I have are bad associations and a blender that won't crush ice."

I made a mental note to buy her a better blender. I assumed the only reason she'd kept that particular wedding present was to make margaritas, and knowing she liked them frozen, not on the rocks, meant a blender that couldn't blend and crush ice was useless to her, except as a reminder of the failure of her marriage.

"We think you're okay just as you are," Bobby said softly. "It would make me sad to see you change."

She looked at him, as though debating something, and finally made the decision to speak her mind. "But you've been trying to change the way I eat. Don't think I didn't notice the food you brought me was all a healthier version of what I usually buy, and all the dinners we've shared lately have been delicious, but nothing has been overly bad for me."

"I'm not trying to change you..." Bobby seemed upset that his attempt to care for her had been so misinterpreted. "I'm just trying to find some ways to be sure you are with us as long as possible. I don't want anything about who you are to change, but I do want to be sure you are as healthy as you can be so that we can spend more time with you."

She put a hand on his arm, easily accepting the truth of his words because his sincerity was all over his face.

"We want you for you," I assured her.

She put her free hand on my arm, and we all stayed there for a moment while our words were absorbed. Finally, she said, "I guess it's just easier to believe my mother because she talks the loudest and hers is the voice that I hear the most."

"Then we'll have to do a better job of talking so that you start to get enough of our voice that you believe what we're telling you is true," I replied.

"You guys are great," she told me with a slight smile. Then she stood up suddenly.

"Where are you going?" Bobby asked, getting up so that we weren't bowing in front of her like royal subjects awaiting an order. Just because we sometimes felt that way didn't mean we needed to act it out in the middle of the main floor of the office.

"I promised my mom I'd stop by for lunch, and I want to get it over with," she explained, her head a little lower than I'd like, but her back was straight when she walked away.

"That is one fine woman," Bobby said, watching her walk away.

My eyes fell to her ass, and I made a noise of agreement. When I glanced back to my partner, he was looking at the doughnut on her desk, still untouched.

I picked it up and handed it to him.

Without even a pause, he took it and stuffed half in his mouth. After he'd chewed enough to speak, he said, "I'm going to gain ten pounds loving that woman."

I bumped his shoulder with mine and assured him, "More of you to love."

When I glanced at him, his tongue darted out to catch the cream that had escaped from the doughnut down his thumb.

I couldn't stop myself from moaning as he licked the white, sticky stuff away, filling my head with all kinds of images. "You are so giving me ideas with that cream," I teased.

"File them away for tonight," he said abruptly. "Right now, we have to come up with an excuse for why we're at the Plum house."

"We aren't at the Plum house," I pointed out, worrying that a little weight gain wasn't the only affect our pursuit of Stephanie was having on him.

He pulled the keys from his pocket and pointed to the stairs. "No, but we will be in ten minutes, at which time we'll need an excuse for why we're there."

"I like the way your mind works," I told him with a smile, following him as we made our way to the garage.

"I figure Stephanie is nearly perfect just the way she is, and I don't want her alone when her mother tries to convince her otherwise," he further explained his plan to me.

I already knew that, but I decided to mess with him a little more when we got in the truck, so I said, "Oh, that, too. I meant I liked the way your mind worked when you told me that tonight, I could get to the file of things I have in mind involving you and cream."

I stopped myself from laughing when he tried to put the key in the ignition, but my words distracted him just enough that me missed the entire steering column. On the second attempt, he managed to get it done and then put the truck in drive and said, "So what ideas do you have?"

By the time we pulled up at the Plum residence, we'd decided to say that we had a skip that lived in the 'Burg and we needed her help bringing him in. We would refuse to talk about it, thus taking away the burden to actually have a name and details, stating confidentiality of the system while assuring Stephanie she should take her time. We'd gladly wait as long as she needed to finish lunch with her family.

"Do you think it'd be too much for me to clean my gun while we're saying that?" I asked.

"Probably, but I'm not the best judge of what is appropriate since I was wondering if it would be all right to drug her mother to shut her up if she starts riding Stephanie again," Bobby confessed.

The surprise look on Mrs. Plum's face at the door was totally worth the time spent driving over.

"Hello, Mrs. Plum. I'm Robert Brown, and this is my partner, Lester Santos," Bobby introduced, motioning toward me. "We work at RangeMan with Stephanie and understand she is here."

"Yes, she's here," Mrs. Plum confirmed, before she looked around behind us and saw a woman about to sprain her neck looking at us while pretending to walk her dog. "Come in so I can shut the doors. There is no reason for us to advertise to the neighbors that Stephanie's brought over the men she works with."

I felt like she was being rude and really wanted to call her on it, but I didn't want to get us kicked out before we even made it to the kitchen to stand beside Stephanie.

Bobby offered our phony excuse, and I was relieved that it was bought hook, line, and sinker. We were ushered into the kitchen, where Stephanie was sitting on a bar stool with a glass of milk in front of her, staring straight ahead. I went right over and kissed her cheek, taking the stool to Stephanie's left, while Bobby mirrored the same action to her right.

Her face lit up like it was Christmas morning and we were the exact gifts she'd most wanted Santa to bring her. My ego wanted more of that look from her, and based on how Bobby was beaming, he felt the same way.

"Why are you guys here?" she asked with such a smile on her face that I refused to pick on her for the way she'd worded her question.

Bobby gave her the same excuse he'd given her mother.

I could tell Stephanie knew he was lying, so I leaned to her ear and whispered, "Honestly, we just wanted to see our girl so you'd know we have your back and we don't want you to change a thing."

Her face took on a lovely blush, but she didn't respond other than to put her fingers just above my knee and squeeze. I looked over at Bobby and saw his bottom lip had gone between his teeth. He liked the way it looked to have her hand on my leg. It wasn't jealousy or possessiveness. That expression was his _I'm trying to hold back, but what I really want is to get it on_ face.

Of course, the world's best tonic for that entered the room. Stephanie's grandmother came over, kissed Steph on the back of her head, and then looked at the two of us as though she, too, was pleased with the gift under her Christmas tree.

"Grandma, this is Bobby and Lester. They work with me at RangeMan," Stephanie introduced us officially, but as she did so, she moved her stool slightly, which allowed Bobby and me to move slightly closer to the bar so she could be the first line of defense against her grandmother's wandering hands.

"You boys staying for lunch?" Edna asked, wagging her eyebrows at us eagerly. "Because that would be dessert enough for me."

"We don't mean to intrude upon a family time," Bobby spoke up first. "We just needed Steph's help on something and knew we could find her here."

Mrs. Plum spun around and said, "Of course they aren't staying for lunch. What would Joseph think if Stephanie brought another man to our house to eat with us? It's not right."

My fist was itching again, but I looked at Stephanie and saw her head begin to sink. The spunk she'd had in facing off against her grandmother was quickly leaving in the face of her mother.

"Mom," she attempted to respond, "Joe and I aren't together anymore, and we aren't going to get back together. We're done for good."

Barreling on, not bothering to hear the truth her daughter spoke, Mrs. Plum said, "I know he was seeing that little nurse from the hospital, but I heard at the beauty shop that they've been fighting lately, and I think if you made the right move, you could get him back. But this time, you need to be serious about it and—"

Before she could continue giving Stephanie bullshit advice, Bobby interrupted her by tossing a green bean in his mouth and asking, "What did you do to these green beans?"

She paused briefly and glanced at the man putting his fingers on her vegetables, but then decided he wasn't worth considering and turned back to look at Stephanie again.

Bobby spoke more firmly this time, leaving no doubt he expected a response. "They aren't soggy, but they aren't too firm, either. How do you do that?"

This time, Mrs. Plum's whole body turned to face him as she offered, "I cook them in a pressure cooker."

"I've heard that's a good way to do it, but how do you keep them from getting soggy? I thought pressure cookers sped up the process." Bobby was determined to get her sidetracked, and based on the look on her face, he was about to succeed.

She wiped her hands on her half apron and said, "I set the timer so I don't overdo it, and then I work out the rest of the meal so I'm not putting them on too soon. It's just a matter of scheduling everything out ahead of time."

Bobby licked his fingers to reinforce the point that he was enjoying his snack and then said, "You say it like it's no big deal, but so many people don't understand how to time everything so that it's ready all at once and the meal can go on the table hot."

I watched Bobby get Mrs. Plum started on meat basting techniques, and he even jumped up and helped her peel potatoes, showing off his knife skills. Twenty minutes later, they had produced a hot potato salad to go with the now cold green beans and the left over roast beef sandwiches that Ms. Plum had made.

Stephanie leaned against me and quietly asked, "What is Bobby doing to my mother? It's like he's cast some kind of charm over her, and she's being…nice."

At that moment, Mrs. Plum spun around and said, "Stephanie, go add two place settings to the table so your friends can join us for lunch. And tell your father to come, too. I don't want the potatoes to get cold because he can't pull himself away from the television."

She stood up, but before walking away, Stephanie whispered, "I swear it's like we're in the twilight zone."

I grabbed her hand to get her focused on me and said, "I told you... You're our girl, and we'd do anything for you."

She walked away with a little more bounce than I'd seen in her step for quite some time. I had a feeling our showing up here had done wonders for her, but I still wasn't sure she understood just how sincere I was when I called her _our girl_.

We needed to find a way to get her out of the mode of seeing us as just really close friends and finally see us as potential men she wanted to commit her life to, because the more time we spent with her, the more I knew Bobby and I needed her.

I was quickly becoming convinced that she needed us, too.


	8. Dancing Around Issues

_JE was kind enough to create the characters below so that I could have fun playing with them._

_Jenny (JenRar) thank you so much for your steady work as the beta on this story. _

_Dina (aydinbydin) I can't tell you how much more fun this story was to write because of your enthusiasm for every new idea._

**Chapter 8 – Dancing Around Issues**

_Bobby's POV_

"Dismissed," Ranger barked from the head of the conference table, ending the morning meeting. As the men began to file out, Ranger called, "Brown, Santos, you can stay behind."

We waited for the rest of the guys to leave and then turned to face our boss.

He stood up and walked to the door, shutting it slowly, but firmly and then turned back to face us. I couldn't read a damn thing on Ranger's face. He'd dropped his mask down, and until he spoke, we wouldn't have a clue what was on his mind.

He sat down, continuing to size us up in silence. I ran over the last couple of days and couldn't come up with anything out of the ordinary. We'd had lunch with Stephanie's parents yesterday and made plans to take her dancing with us tonight. There was a new club on the waterfront that was getting rave reviews. Les and I loved dancing, but neither of us were all that into the gay clubs in town. We figured if we took Steph with us, we could dance with her and the three of us could have a good time.

"You guys know I have no problem with what you have together, right?" he started with a question, so I was a little less concerned that he'd held us back to rip us a new lower body orifice.

"Sure, why?" Les spoke first, obviously as confused as I was about what was going on.

"I had dinner with Stephanie last night," he said, before putting his hand over his mouth and rubbing. If I didn't know better, I'd say he was nervous, but since this was Ranger, there was no way that was possible.

We waited, and he dropped his hand to continue. "She was going on and on about all the things you three have done together lately."

Oh shit, now I knew where this was going. While nobody had a clue what the real deal between Ranger and Stephanie was, there was still an unspoken rule in the building that said hands off the woman our boss called Babe.

"Look, I don't want to assume anything, but it sounded like she's been enjoying the time with you, and from what I've seen, you've been with her at some point nearly every day, which leads me to wonder…what in the hell is going on?" When he asked the last part, his mask fell slightly and his voice got louder, letting us know he wasn't pleased with the idea of us toying with her.

Les lifted a hand, basically letting Ranger know he'd said enough. "If anybody else asked, I'd tell them to mind their own damn business," he started in what was probably not the best way to calm Ranger down. "But since it's you and we know you've got some kind of history with her, I'll tell you this – that is one fine woman, inside and out, and we figured she needed somebody to be a real friend to her."

"So that's all that's going on?" Ranger asked, lifting an eyebrow in a way that made it clear he didn't believe it.

I caught Lester's eye when he glanced over at me.

Apparently, so did Ranger, because he leaned forward and said, "I agree that she is good woman, but for some reason I've never figured out, she doesn't believe that's true. I've spent a few years watching over her, and I consider it one of the best things I've done with my life. So if you two have some kind of game going on to screw with her, I'm telling you right now as your boss and your former commanding officer to stand the fuck down."

I couldn't listen to any more. I knew if he kept talking, Lester was going to get pissed, and then this could turn ugly, so I jumped in. "We aren't playing games with her, and we have no intention of screwing with her." I saw the movement of Lester's head. I knew the little play on words that had crossed his mind, but now wasn't the time to argue semantics.

"But we were getting damn tired of watching the game of hot potato that was her life, where her mother would demand one thing and push her away for not obeying, and then Joe would pretend to love her while only wanting part of her, pushing the rest away, and even you, who accepted her for who she was but didn't really want to let her totally in your life. You want to know why she doesn't realize all she has to offer? It's because of all the head games people have played with her in the name of love. We know you didn't mean to mess with her, but the way you'd say one thing while doing another is confusing as hell. We're just trying to show her that all men aren't bastards only after parts of her."

Ranger stared at me for a minute, as though weighing the truth of my words. "And how is the two of you playing with her any better? It's not like you're offering her a ring, house, and kids."

"Hell no," Lester interrupted. "We ain't offering that, but quite frankly, I don't think she wants it, either."

Ranger pointed out, "Even if she doesn't now, at some point, she's going to want all of it."

"And you know this how?" I wondered.

"She's unlike any woman I've ever met," Ranger explained, looking slightly above my head, not really at me, to respond. "But at the end of the day, she's a woman and she's from the 'Burg. She wouldn't have spent so many years dancing with Morelli if there wasn't a part of her that thought a husband and a house and kids was a good idea."

I looked down, not really wanting to disagree with Ranger, but at heart, I didn't agree with a single word he'd said.

"Can I ask you a question?" Les spoke quieter this time, truly asking for permission and not just barging forward.

He waited for Ranger to nod before asking, "Why didn't you ever try for something with her? I mean, everybody could see you guys had chemistry. Why not find out what she really wanted and give it a shot to see if it might work for both of you?"

I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to hear his answer, and part of me wanted to smack the shit out of my partner for even asking it. The last thing we wanted to do was give Ranger ideas about starting a relationship with Stephanie.

Ranger sat back, giving the impression he was considering Lester's question. "I can't do it. I can't take the chance of letting her in because I can't be what she needs."

"What does she need that you aren't capable of providing?" I pushed, mentally kicking my own ass for the question.

"Stability, honestly, openness, hell…you name it. I give her support, encouragement, and a little security, but that's all I can really offer. I've come close to chucking it all and just trying to be normal, but at the end of the day, my life isn't normal, so it's foolish to think I could offer her any of those things." He paused for a minute before adding, "I'd rather be the guy who she could say never let her down and not risk being the guy that broke her heart. At least the first way, I can be proud of it."

"You don't know that you'd break her heart," Les told him the same thing I'd been thinking.

"No, I don't, but I also don't know if the call I get for my next mission will be the one I don't come back from. I'm the only one here that still has an unconditional contract. I get paid to do the shit nobody else will do, and in taking the sums of money for it, I know there's always a greater than fifty percent chance that I may not come back." He winced before saying, "Somehow, I think making Stephanie an early widow would do more damage than just keeping her at arm's length has."

I looked at Les and knew he agreed with his cousin. If Ranger had tried to open himself to Stephanie and then been called away and killed, that mission would have taken two lives, not one. I didn't understand how he could be so close to what I considered Heaven and choose to not walk forward with her, but I found myself respecting his ability to hold back and being totally grateful for it, too.

Ranger straightened his shoulders once more and said, "But what I have or have not done isn't the point here. The reason we're talking is because I need to know what you two are doing."

Les relaxed his posture, showing he wasn't upset about the questioning. "Like Bobby said, we ain't playing games. And as far as we know, she just considers us her friends."

"Is that what you are?" Ranger followed up.

"Definitely," I spoke up this time.

"Is that _all_ you are?" Ranger pushed, knowing we were evading.

Les shrugged. "As long as that's what she wants, that's all we are."

Ranger stood up quickly and bent over the table, taking his time to look us in the eye before his gaze landed on Lester and he said, "I've watched you use a lot of people over the years, cuz, and I'm watching you. The mats will be the least of your worries if I think you're treating Stephanie like one of those pieces of trash you've used in the past." Then he turned to look at me. "And you've never shown much interest in anyone other this joker. So if this is some kind of testing the waters or science experiment, I'll mess you up in ways the training the Army gave you won't begin to fix. Have I made myself clear?"

"Are you threatening us?" Lester challenged.

Ranger slowly pulled himself up to his full height and shook his head. "I don't threaten. I'm just explaining the rules."

"I thought you said this wasn't a game?" I blurted out.

"You see to that it's not, and you don't have to worry about anything else," he replied coolly.

Ranger was only a step from the door when Lester opened his mouth again. "And what if we aren't playing and the three of us decide there's more going on here than friendship?"

His torso stayed in place, but Ranger turned his head back to speak over his shoulder. "If you treat her right and she's happy, then I'll be right there to support you all. I may not have always done the right thing as far as she's concerned, but at the end of the day, I just want to see her happy, and I know that despite what she might have thought, I can't do that for her. If you can, then I'd love to see her finally getting what she deserves."

He didn't pause before opening the door and walking out, leaving us there wondering what in the hell just happened.

"Are we in trouble, or did we just get some sort of blessing?" Lester asked.

"I don't think either. I think it's more that we're on notice, and depending on what happens and how we treat Stephanie, one or the other will be true," I replied, hoping that was right.

"There's no reason we should not go out tonight, though, right?" Les asked, not sounding sure.

I thought about it and finally decided, I didn't give a shit. Stephanie wanted to go dancing with us, and that was all that mattered. "I've got three physicals to do, a skip to try rounding up with Brett, and then I'm getting ready to head over to Stephanie's apartment for dinner before the club." I stood up to make my point. "We aren't playing games, we aren't going to hurt her, and we aren't going to pressure her into something she isn't comfortable with."

Les grinned, and I knew he was in. "Then I'll pull your leather pants out of the back of the storage closet, because you haven't worn them in the longest time, and they make your ass look incredibly hot."

The afternoon passed textbook easy, and before I knew it, Les and I were knocking on Stephanie's door with dinner in hand, waiting on her to let us in. There was no immediate response, which seemed strange, so I knocked again. When I looked over to Lester, I couldn't help but notice his expression shifted to one of worry. It never took her this long to answer the door, especially when she knew to expect us. Her car was next to the dumpster in the parking lot, so she was definitely there.

I reached to my back, lifted the shirt tail I hadn't tucked in, and pulled the Sig from the waist at the back of my pants, waiting for Les to pick the pitiful excuse for a lock at her door. I called her name before we walked in and heard, "Arrghh!" as a response.

Lester's gun was drawn before I could even focus on the movement, and we moved toward her bedroom, clearing her apartment as we went, seeing nothing out of the ordinary.

It wasn't until we turned at the end of her hall, ready to enter her bedroom that she said, "I have absolutely nothing to wear!"

We looked at each other and shook our heads. There wasn't a threat to be eliminated, but there definitely was something we could do to be helpful.

Les put his Beretta away and walked in with his playboy swagger, announcing, "Well, from where I'm standing, what you're wearing right now is perfect."

Stephanie spun around with a death grip on her towel, barely covering everything I so desperately wanted to see, and screamed from the shock of us appearing in her bedroom. "Geez, is it a rule that you guys have to enter a room on stealth mode?"

I walked over to her and rubbed my hands up and down her upper arms a few times to provide some warming friction, before leaning down and kissing her forehead. "Sorry to have scared you. We knocked, and when you didn't answer, we let ourselves in. Then we heard your growl and assumed something was wrong."

She shook her head, willing to absolve us just that easily. "I was frustrated and had my head buried in my closet trying to find something different, but everything I pulled out was either something I've worn too many times before or something I would wear on a distraction."

Les plopped down on her bed with a bounce and then smacked the mattress beside himself a few times. "Have a seat, man."

"What?" Steph and I asked at the same time.

"Come on." He patted the bed again. "You and I are going to help pick out her club wear."

I slowly made my way over to the spot he was saving for me, and once I'd sat, he looked at her and said, "All right, Beautiful, bring it on. Pull it out and show us what you've got."

She seemed hesitant, so I said, "Why don't we grab the food we brought for dinner while you put on something on other than your towel, and we can start then?"

She seemed to relax, so we stepped out and picked up the bags we'd dropped on the way in, a few bottles of water from her fridge, and some paper towels to keep from making a mess of her bed. When she called our names, we dutifully reentered her room and took our places on her bed. She was standing in front of us with two hangers in her hand – one holding a dress over her torso and the other waiting to take its place. Her towel was on a heap on the floor, which made me wonder what she was wearing behind that dress on a hanger.

Les made a motion for her to switch them out, and then my eyes beheld something that nearly caused me to choke. In the brief moment between outfits, I saw her creamy skin covered only in a midnight blue bra and panty set. The panties didn't see to cover much, and since all I saw was milky white, I assumed she had been doing some serious grooming during her shower.

"Well?" she asked, waiting for one of us to speak.

I was afraid to open my mouth for fear what I was really thinking would come out, but Lester didn't seem to have the same issue I did. "Neither. What else do you have?"

She seemed to agree with him and then spun around to face her closet and search out something else. I blinked to be sure I saw seeing right, as just the thinnest strip of blue was visible between her perfectly round ass checks. I forced myself to look away, intending to ask Les how he was able to stand it, but the look on his face told me he was egging her on intentionally just so he could enjoy the view a little longer.

His eyes cut to me only briefly for a quick wink, and then he focused back on Stephanie, who was turning around with two more options. It took half an hour before we'd narrowed it down to two dresses. She finally picked one and left us still sprawled out on her bed to finish getting ready in the bathroom.

I looked at Les and see the evidence framed in denim of what the fashion show had done to him.

He smiled and looked at me, before glancing at the bulge in my leather pants and saying, "It will be a miracle if we can get through dancing without one of us ruining our damn pants like a freaking middle schooler."

Stephanie came back around the corner in a dress that seemed to match the undergarments that were now permanently burned into my memory and did a little spin to show how the slight modifications in her diet had taken what was already a smoking body and turned it into something drop dead gorgeous.

"You guys ready to roll?" she asked, obviously energized by the reaction we gave to her appearance.

I handed her a bottle of water, which she'd barely touched as we ate, and told her, "Drink. If you have any booze, it will keep it from getting to you as quickly."

She dutifully tipped the bottle, but when she lowered it, she corrected me. "I'll drink it, but we both know more than a single shot and I'm as good as down for the count, no matter what I do beforehand."

Les promised her, "Don't you worry, Beautiful. We're not letting you out of our sight tonight, so no matter what, we'll keep you safe."

She grinned at him, looking younger and lighter than I'd seen in a long time. Then she touched us both and said, "I know. Now, I just want to go dance and have fun with my boys."

She spun around and left us standing there with our jaws practically open. "Her boys?" I repeated as a question, not sure I'd heard her right.

Les cleared his throat before responding. "Yeah, normally I'd take issue with anybody calling me a boy, but damn if when she said it, my dick didn't stand up taller, like it was ready to be recognized as present and accounted for when she called."

I put my hand at the back of his neck in a gesture we'd done to each other thousands of times and shook him softly from side to side. "Let's go out with our girl."

When we walked into Pulses, it was crowded, but not so jammed you couldn't find room on the dance floor or a table at the fringe if you needed one. We went straight to the tables just as the music slowed and the lights dimmed.

"I'm going to get us all something to drink," I volunteered.

I made my way to the bar and got us each something non-alcoholic and then made my way to a tall table close enough to the dance floor that I could watch. Lester had taken the hint and used my absence as an opportunity to get her dancing right away. She had one hand on his shoulder, leading slightly to his back, and the other was high on his chest. I'd watched Lester dance with hundreds of women, but I'd never seen him hold one the way he was her. He had her as close as he could without risking offending her, but his arms weren't groping, they were just holding – treasuring – what was in them. She seemed to light up the whole joint despite the low house lights, and I found that watching them made me happy.

The DJ followed up one slow song with another, and I didn't hesitate to join them, tapping Steph on the shoulder and cutting in. Les didn't seem to mind, going back to the spot I'd occupied and keeping his eyes glued on us, as though we were the best thing he'd ever seen.

I'd been worried about how she would react to us holding her on the dance floor, but once again, that proved to be totally unfounded. She molded herself to me and easily followed my lead, seeming perfectly content and comfortable to be so close to me. I didn't want the song to end, even though I knew we'd be here for hours. I spun her away, just to have the chance to draw her back to again. She smiled, and then once she turned back to face me, she let out the most delicious sigh of peace as she put her head on my shoulder. I instantly regretted wearing leather tonight. For one thing, it was hot, but for another, it wasn't all that forgiving, and the way my crotch was filling out, Les was right, it would be miracle if I could dance with her much before having to excuse myself to the men's room to keep from putting a stain at the zipper I had no intention of explaining to a dry cleaner.

For the next two hours, we took turns dancing with her or sitting together and talking at the table. A few guys tried to approach us to ask her for a dance, but we effectively ran them off without having to say a word. When the last kid ran off, Stephanie laughed and said, "You know...I'm perfectly capable of telling them no myself."

I was about to apologize, but Les jumped in first and said, "We know that, but just for tonight, we wanted to pretend you were all ours."

She laughed as though he were joking and then teased back, "Just tonight?"

Before either of us could answer, the music changed again and her eyes lit up. "I love this song!" She jumped off her stool, grabbed both our hands, and led us willingly to the dance floor.

So far we had only danced with her individually, but without even thinking about it, I spun her to me and put a leg between her thighs. She proved herself to be a fantastic dancer by mirroring the movements of my hips. Then Les came up behind her, resting his hands on her hips and sandwiching her between us. She used both hands to lift her hair from her neck at the back and shut her eyes, and just in that brief moment, I could so easily picture this working. I could see us in bed with her, watching movies, going out – everything. I could see us happy with her in the middle of our lives. And the expression on her face at the moment truly made me think she was enjoying herself as well, so I began to hope that she might soon be open to thinking along the same lines we were.

The song ended, blending into something of similar speed, and Les spun her around so that she was facing him. I easily took his place at her back, and she didn't seem to mind having us both pressing ourselves against her. There was no way to hide the effect it was having on us, and knowing she wasn't a fool, I knew she had to feel the evidence pressing against her, but continued to move her hips, letting the movement from Lester guide us all.

Half an hour later, she moved so that she was standing and not really dancing anymore. We both moved away immediately, not wanting to push her.

"I think I'm too tired to dance anymore," she announced, not looking overly happy about it.

Les touched her nose with his index finger and assured her, "We'll come back again."

"All of us?" she asked, looking at me for confirmation.

"Absolutely," I promised, feeling my heart rate increase from the hope that she wanted the three of us to be together just like we did.

We made our way off the dance floor, and just before we cleared the bodies, someone reached out and grabbed Stephanie's arm.

"Stephanie Plum?" the less than impressive man asked.

Les put his hand on her back, not trying to move her away from the punk interrupting our night, but letting her know we were behind her and all she had to do was say the word and we'd take care of this jerk.

She tilted her head like she was trying to place the guy talking to her.

He finally had to help her, telling her his name was Michael and they'd gone to high school together. "I'm just back visiting my folks and decided to get out for the night."

She made small talk for a few minutes, and I found myself looking over the crowd, falling into the old habit of cataloguing potential threats and looking for anything out of the ordinary.

Their conversation seemed to be winding down, before Michael said, "I almost didn't recognize you. I mean, you look the same, but the way you were dancing"—he lowered his voice and leaned in—"with two men..." He stood back up and continued, "I couldn't believe anyone from our old neighborhood would do something so unseemly. I just had to call out to you to see if my eyes were deceiving me."

Her expression shifted, and she looked hurt. "Well, it's me all right," she told him. "Now you know."

"Does your mother know you do this kind of thing, with people like…" He left the sentence unfinished, which is the only reason I didn't put my hand around his neck. I hated the turn this conversation was taking, but at the same time, I didn't want to jump in if she wanted to handle this herself.

When he asked about her mother, I could almost see her shrinking. Her shoulders dropped their confidence from earlier, and her eyes went down to the floor. But the moment he began a sentence that seemed as though he wanted to insult us, her head snapped up and her eyes, which had looked hurt, were now practically glowing. I glanced at Lester and could tell he'd seen it, too.

"Michael Arnold, don't you dare finish that sentence." Her finger went out like a mother scolding a small child. "You can gab all you want to about me, but don't even think about insulting my friends like that."

He chuckled at her, and I briefly wondered what kind of man laughed like that. "I didn't mean to upset you, but you have to admit, they aren't exactly the kind of people you take home for your mother's roast, now are they?"

"Actually," she retorted, taking a step closer, making me wonder if we might have to peel _her_ hands off his throat based on the head of steam she was currently building, "they have been to my parents' house for roast. Bobby's been invited to cook with her anytime he wants, and Les and my dad sat through a couple of games. So whatever you're thinking, just stop. They're good, decent men, who I love being around. Don't you dare insult them based on what you think you know just from a glance on a dance floor."

"But they aren't from the 'Burg," he said, clearly confused and too stupid to pick up on her clues that this conversation was about to end one way or the other.

"Thank God, because if the 'Burg only has narrow minded bigots like you, I want to stay as far away from it as possible." She then stepped back, told him goodnight, and took our hands in hers to led us to the door.

We stopped beside the SUV, and I could tell the rush of her confrontation was getting to her. It wasn't cool tonight, but she'd crossed her arms tightly, as though she was freezing. I took off my button up shirt that had been hanging open and loose on me all night so I could put it around her shoulders. It wasn't a coat, but I knew it was warm from being on me while we danced.

Stephanie shut her eyes and took a deep breath. I waited to see if that was enough to make her comfortable and was rewarded when her eyes opened and landed on me standing there in my black leather pants and my white, wife beater tank top. When she spoke, I had a feeling her mouth got moving before her brain could stop it.

"Good Lord, Bobby, you're gorgeous."

I couldn't help it. I burst out laughing.

Les put his hand on her shoulder to get her attention and pouted. "I'm hurt, Beautiful."

She turned a spectacular shade of rose on her cheeks, obviously embarrassed by her outburst. "Les…no, I didn't mean…well, you are, too, but…I…shit."

Les took pity on her and pulled her in for a hug to stop her rambling. "Relax, Steph. I happen to agree with you. He is one fine looking man."

She hid her face, only for a moment, before looking up at him and nodding her agreement.

Driving to her apartment, I tried to keep from smiling like a fool, but I couldn't help myself. She had definitely checked me out and had liked what she saw. We'd had a great time out dancing, and then she'd stood up to someone from the 'Burg for attempting to insult us. From where I was sitting, life was good and definitely worth smiling about.


	9. Just Desserts

_JE deserves all the credit for the characters I'm using below._

_Jenny (JenRar) as the beta on this story you are responsible for catching all the run-ons, comma abuse, and other awkwardly worded sentences I seem to throw about randomly. Thank you for sorting it all out into an intelligible story._

_Dina (aydinbydin), here is another chapter that is all from the sketches you kept. Thank you for your data storage and encouragement._

**Chapter 9 – Just Desserts**

**Stephanie's POV**

"Come on, Beautiful. We'll just change things around a little and go out tomorrow night instead," Les offered with a smile.

We had made plans to go dancing tonight, since it had been such a blast last weekend. But this afternoon, Ranger had called and asked if I could do a distraction. I'd hesitated until he said that he was going to command Lester and Bobby to work this one because of the level of the skip and the potential for things to go wrong. Once I'd realized my plans for the night were going to be screwed anyway, I'd agreed to help out.

"For the record, I'd rather be going dancing with you guys than getting cozy with this," I said, pointing to the picture of the skip I was to lure out.

Thirty-eight-year-old Richard Hamilton was wanted for a long list of charges, ranging from tax evasion all the way to assault with a deadly weapon. There had been allegations of sexual assault in the past, too, but none of them had ever stuck. All we knew for sure was that he loved going to Pulses and he left with a different girl every night after getting her just tipsy enough to be gullible without being over the top drunk.

The guys had somehow determined he had a thing for women in red, preferably covering as little of their bodies as possible. I looked down at my excuse for a dress and sighed. If my mother saw me right now, there wouldn't be enough cotton in the world for her to iron her way out of the coronary it would bring about.

"Are you sure I'm dressed okay?" I asked for the third time. The skirt was long enough – as long as I stayed standing. I wasn't entirely sure how I was going to manage the bar stool if I had to sit down. And since my skirt was tight enough to count as something fitted from the Lula collection, I knew if it rode up any, I'd be hard pressed to get it back down.

The halter top tied behind my neck and had sequins all over, giving me a little extra sparkle. The back was bare, which meant no bra, and the bottom of the shirt stopped an inch shy of the top of my skirt. If my memory served me correctly, most of the girls working on Lula's old corner had on more clothes than I did at the moment.

I forced myself to look Lester in the eye so I'd get his honest opinion. His pupils were huge, and I wondered why he was biting his bottom lip. "Are you all right, Les?" I asked, putting my hand softly on his arm.

He shook his head just as Bobby came around the corner and saw us. "He's fine. He's just struggling to find the right words to tell you that you look perfect for the distraction."

"No, it's more than that," Lester spoke up on his own behalf this time. "After the distraction, we have to get you the hell out of the bar before we have to kick some serious ass for staring at you too hard. You are unbelievably sexy, Steph."

I knew I was blushing, but I tried not to let my head drop at his compliment. Over the last few weeks, Les and Bobby both had gotten a lot more direct in complimenting me, and I knew they meant it, because they'd promised to never lie to me, and for some reason, I felt as though I could trust them on that.

I walked over to Bobby and hooked my arm around his. "You got anything for me?"

He opened his hand, showing me the microphone I knew I needed to put on to be fully dressed for the evening. I took it from his palm and began to turn away, but he stopped me by putting his warm hand on top of mine.

"Hey, aren't you forgetting something?" he prompted, leaning down so his check was closer to me.

I leaned up and placed a kiss on his check, lingering long enough to take a deep breath. Bobby had a unique smell that I adored. It was one part cologne that I couldn't place mixed with his own manly scent and topped off with what I thought was just a hint of Purell. The guy couldn't stop himself; he kept his hands clean like no one I'd ever seen.

He snaked his arms around me and pulled me to his chest briefly. I shut my eyes and took the contact he was offering, loving the way it felt to be sheltered against such a strong, capable chest. When I realized I was pushing myself against him a little more than was appropriate for just a hug between friends, I opened my eyes and pulled away to hide in the bathroom under the guise of needed to get the wire secured.

It took all of five seconds to get that done and check myself out one last time in the mirror. I wanted to wait until my face was no longer red, so I stood there taking a few deep breaths. When I heard voices coming from the bedroom, I stood at the door with my ear practically pressed against it, listening in.

"I swear in a past life, that girl was a cat," Bobby commented with a light laugh. "When I pull her to me, she goes boneless in all the right ways."

At least he wasn't complaining about me turning into some kind of clingy freak. Of course, I had no idea what all the right ways were for a person to be boneless, but his tone told me it wasn't a bad thing.

"I think she likes it when we touch her," Les replied. "I mean, I never want her to think we're crowding her, but she's just responsive enough that it's hard to keep my hands to myself around her."

"Especially when she looks like she does tonight," Bobby agreed, before adding, "Holy shit, she's hot as hell in all that red."

I glanced at myself in the mirror just in time to hear Lester agree.

"I swear, the little changes in her diet have already made a big difference. She's not really working out, beyond the few self defense lessons we've done with her in the evenings, so it's hard to believe a few healthy alternatives have caused all that."

"I don't even think she's missed the sugar, either. At least, she's not been complaining about it since the beginning," Bobby pointed out, proving I was a better actress than I thought.

In truth, the lack of sugar was killing me. Of course, that might be because in addition to the lack of sugar to cancel some of my rampant hormones, I was also spending practically all my free time with the two of them. As if my body needed an excuse, being around two perfect bodies without having access to the good parts was quickly getting me at the end of my rope for what I could handle.

"Maybe if the skip comes out easily enough, we can stick around and dance," Lester offered.

"No!" Bobby practically screamed at his partner.

"Whoa. Chill, man, it was just a suggestion," Les replied, like he was laughing.

"As much as I love how she looks right now, there's no way I want to stick around at a crowded club so the guys there can get a show," he explained, making me feel warm in ways I didn't understand. Bobby had this way of completely unnerving me with some of the things he said. That comment in particular made me feel like I was being protected out of something other than obligation.

I realized I'd been in the bathroom long enough, so I opened the door loudly to cover up the fact I'd been listened to them and announced I was ready to go. Lester gave me another top to bottom once over and smiled, making me feel warm in ways that were vastly different from what I'd just experienced. This I recognized and knew that after the distraction, despite my attempts to eat a little better, I was going to have to sneak out for some sugar. If I didn't, I wasn't responsible for what my body might make me do.

"Here," Lester said, taking off the windbreaker he'd been wearing and holding it out for me to put on. "Let's keep our secret weapon under wraps until we get to the club."

I let him put the jacket on me and even stood there, allowing him to spin me around and zip it up. I took a deep breath and caught the traces of scent Les seemed to carry with him as well – black Polo, leather or something like it, and a slight hint of coffee. Lester loved coffee.

He put an arm around my shoulders and pulled me closer to him so that he could guide me out of the apartment. I leaned into him, wondering why it was that even though they felt completely different, I loved the way it felt when either of them touched me. I definitely wasn't raised in a touchy feely household and had assumed that had worn off onto me, because when people tried to touch me during the day, my reaction varied from mild discomfort and awkwardness to stomach-churning, skin-crawling disgust. But with my boys, it was…comfortable, warm, homey, and sometimes, downright lust inducing. Yup, I was definitely going to sneak back out tonight and pick up something sweet to eat. There was no way I could handle my hormones getting any more out of sorts around these two.

At the club, Tank gave us a brief run down of who was here. I noticed Ranger wasn't there, and that made me a little nervous. I always relaxed more when he was around, because I trusted him to watch over me.

As if reading my mind, Lester leaned down, placed a kiss on my hair, and whispered, "Don't worry. We'll take care of you tonight."

I leaned into him without even thinking about it, letting my head rest on his chest and neck. If only he meant that other than caring for my safety. The state I was in right now made me wish somebody would take care of me tonight. Maybe then I could avoid the ice cream, doughnuts, and Tasty Cakes I intended to put away later.

I managed to get myself back into the present by focusing on Tank's deep voice as he stated Bobby and Lester were going to be floating in the club. Junior was behind the bar and would serve me virgin drinks, so I was responsible for acting as though they were getting to me. Then he and Manny would be at the front door, where they wanted me to lure him out. Finally, just in case something went wrong and we had to exit at the back, Vince and Cal would be waiting there.

"All right, Little Girl," Tank concluded, letting his eyes rest on me. "Let's go get a bad guy."

I stood up a little straighter, having to force myself to step away from Lester, where I'd been so comfortable. I heard him chuckle a little and turned around to see what was so funny.

"Hey, as much as I love the look"—he gestured to me with his hand, causing me to look down—"I think you might have better success if you don't walk in there in a windbreaker that says 'Security' on the back."

I unzipped it and let the jacket fall off my arms, revealing the lack of clothes underneath.

Manny sucked in a deep breath when he caught a glimpse of what I was wearing. "Yeah, I'd say what was being covered up will definitely do the job."

Bobby stepped in front of me, obstructing the view Manny had been enjoying.

I put my hand on his back and patted it a few times. "It's all right," I told Bobby, hoping he'd relax.

Sometimes it was easy to think of Bobby as just the easygoing medic, but there was this side of him, too, that was all take charge and tough, and at the moment, it was doing all kinds of things beneath my tight red skirt.

I realized I'd gone from patting his back to rubbing my hand over the muscles and knew that was a very bad idea. I dropped my hand, as though it had been burned. Squaring my shoulders, I walked into the club, only nodding at Binkie, who was acting as the bouncer.

The skip was at the bar, just like Tank had said he would be. It was really crowded on the dance floor, but not so much at the bar. A fast glance around told me there weren't any other women in slutty red outfits, so I hoped that would help to turn the table in my favor and get this guy out the door quickly. I tried a quick pep talk and promised myself the sooner I got this creep out the door, the sooner I could get on the couch with Ben and Jerry. That was all I needed to pull my shoulders back, stick out my chest, and then begin to swing my hips as I made my way over to the bar.

I intentionally stopped two stools away from him and sat down, seeing peripherally that he'd definitely noticed my arrival and let his gaze linger in my direction. "Gin and tonic," I told Junior, before adding, "And make it mostly gin."

As soon as Junior put my all tonic drink in front of me, Hamilton scooted closer so that we next to each other and then said, "Now what is it that has a pretty thing like you hitting the booze so early?"

As far as skips go, Richard Hamilton wasn't bad looking. I could see why he'd managed to pick up so many women. He was pretty well built and obviously worked at maintaining his physique. He wasn't up to the Merry Man standard, but they were a scale in and of themselves, so it wasn't really fair to compare an outsider to the guys at RangeMan. Still, if I didn't know what he'd done and what he was capable of, I'd be tempted to think he was okay to talk to.

I let my eyes give him a once over, as much in real interest as the role I was playing to get him outside. "Let's just say I'm tired of being played like a fool, and I'd love to forget all about what brought me here by the time the evening is over."

"You'll forget about it sooner if you talk about it," he prompted.

I rolled my eyes at his presumption of knowing what I needed. "Let's just say my boyfriend and I didn't see eye to eye about something that I think is important. This has been a really busy week, and on Monday, we agreed that tonight, we were going to have a great time. I interpreted that to mean that we would spend it together, but when I went over to his place, dressed to go out, I realized that his idea of good time apparently included a waitress he'd picked up at dinner. So, I'm here alone, desperate to get the image of him answering the door with that slut hanging on his back out of my head."

He smiled and looked me over once more. "Your boyfriend is a fool. Anybody that would let you go to imbibe in the flavor of the day obviously has some serious issues to deal with."

I emptied my drink and motioned for Junior to come back. "Another, but twice as strong this time," I ordered.

It took him about thirty seconds to return with another glass of tonic, which I quickly chugged down.

"Perhaps you would like to dance," Hamilton suggested, seeing how hard I was hitting the drinks.

I shrugged and said, "I like dancing, and then I can come back and hit the whiskey, since I don't think the gin is doing what I'd hoped."

He took my hand and led me to the dance floor, which was packed with bodies. I knew on a distraction I was supposed to stay on the fringe so that the guys didn't lose sight of me. And since this guy had been known to do just about everything imaginable to women, I needed to stay in control enough to at least follow that rule. I stopped moving, planting my feet so he couldn't pull me any farther.

"Let's see if you can dance before you drag me any farther into the bodies over there," I explained. "If you stink at this, I'd just as soon go back to the stool."

He smiled, although it turned out looking a little more like a sneer than anything pleasant, and came back over to stand entirely too close for a stranger. I swallowed back my typical response to anyone in my personal space and let him pull me into his arms. We got through the first song easy enough, and as it turned out, in addition to all his illegal activities, he was also a good dancer, so I let him convince me to keep going when the song changed.

By the middle of the third song, I realized I had royally screwed this distraction up. Sure, the skip was eating out of my hand, but I was actually dancing with him – not pretending to enjoy myself, but full-fledged grinding my hips into his and not giving a damn if my skirt showed off the thong I'd spent so much time picking out so that the shade of red would match exactly.

I pulled back and saw the interest on his face, which gave me the courage I needed to risk being aggressive. "I think I need a little fresh air."

He grinned at me and said, "I thought you were going to dance and then go back to drink some more."

"I was, but after dancing with you, I'm starting to feel the effects of the shots I did before I came here. I think a little fresh air will be exactly what I need to put some sense back into my head," I replied, leading him on.

"Why do you need sense in your head?" he asked, buying everything I was handing him.

"Because I'm beginning to think it's a good idea to take you back to my place – soon."

The emphasis I put on the last word seemed to give him the motivation he needed to move.

"Let's go," he said, taking my hand in his and leading me to the front door, where I hoped Tank and Manny were ready.

As soon as we cleared the door, they stepped out and ran through their bond enforcement speech, pulling Hamilton away from me and cuffing him with practiced efficiency. He looked at me one last time before Tank hauled him away, and I felt a shiver work through me, as though I knew exactly what kind of horrible things he'd had in mind for me tonight.

Bobby and Lester walked over and congratulated me on a job well done.

"I need a shower," I announced. "I've got to do something, soon." I knew I wasn't making sense, but I couldn't seem to keep my mouth shut.

"Why?" Bobby asked, suddenly seeming to swell up in size. "Did he hurt you?"

I knew exactly what he was thinking, so I needed to calm him down before he called Tank and the skip ended up in traction before jail.

"No, nothing like that," I jumped in. "It's this damned food you've got me eating."

"If you're hungry, we can swing by and get you some dinner," Lester offered, totally missing the point.

"No, that's not it, either," I told him, still at a loss about how to explain what was going on.

"Then what it is?" Bobby asked, growing more concerned the longer he was confused.

"I practically humped that skip on the dance floor," I pointed out.

"Yeah, Beautiful, you've got some killer moves that he obviously fell for," Lester agreed, which didn't make me feel any better about my performance in the club, knowing my guys had been watching.

"Well, it's just that...the last couple of weeks, I've been a little...ummm...let's just say I've been eating like I usually do, but I'm not getting the full effect of the sugar," I finally got out, hoping they'd let it go.

Lester looked completely confused. "What effect is that?"

I covered my eyes, as though not having to look at them would make it easier to say. "When I'm alone, I tend to eat more sweets because the sugar helps me to not feel so..."

Lester's voice had that edge to it, like he was trying to keep from smiling, as he asked, "So…what?"

Fortunately, Bobby came to my rescue and filled in the blank. "You mean horny?"

As much as I wanted to deny it, he'd gotten it on the first guess. "Yes, exactly. I've got to get a handle on this, or I'm going to embarrass myself or actually throw down any moderately acceptable looking skip and work on a new takedown technique that isn't RangeMan approved."

Both of them seemed surprised by my admission. Lester seemed to tense up, though, and nearly croaked out, "Bobby..."

If I didn't know better, I would have said he was hoping Bobby had a suggestion for helping me, or he was going to volunteer to be the body I got to practice my takedown techniques on. I knew he was happy with Bobby, so the way he was acting seemed completely out of place – and really tempting.

"Come on," Bobby said as he calmly pulled me to his side. "Let's go back to our place, Steph can shower and change, and I'll make us some brownies."

I couldn't believe my ears. "Brownies," I repeated, just loving the sugary sound of the word. Then I remembered this was Bobby I was dealing with and he had an eerie ability to make anything healthy, so I felt the need to question him, "What kind of brownies?"

Bobby smiled in his laid back way and explained, "Chocolate."

I must have seemed hesitant to believe him, because Lester threw in, "They're good. He's made them for me. Come on, I'll drive."

He was glaring in the direction of a few drunk college students who had obviously seen the slut in a barely there red dress and seemed to be just inebriated enough to think they had a chance in hell as compared to the two glorious men I was standing with.

Lester opened my door and lifted me into the back seat. Bobby was already behind the wheel, so I asked, "Can I lick the bowl? I love the dough, and my mom never let me have it." I knew it was a silly request, but I'd been a lot more open with these two than anyone else in my life, and they'd never laughed at me, so I decided to risk it.

Lester gave me one of his trademark grins and replied, "Come with us, Beautiful, and you can lick anything you want to."

As the engine came to life, I could have sworn Bobby said, "Subtle, Santos. Real subtle, man," under his breath, but I was too excited about fresh out of the oven brownies to hit him up with questions.

When we got to Haywood, I realized right away that I'd been so focused on the promised dessert, I hadn't remembered any of the other details, like what I was going to put on after my shower.

When we walked in their apartment, I was surprised at how clean and straight it was. I wasn't expecting a frat house look, but this was still well beyond what I'd imagined. "Come on in," Bobby said when I stopped at the door.

I let Lester lead me to the hall that I knew led to the bathroom. He flipped on a light and said, "Shower is in there; fresh towels are in the closet."

"Umm, guys," I started, realizing I needed some help. "I don't have any clothes to put on after my shower."

Lester grinned at me once more and said, "I'm a fan of you wrapped up in a towel, but if you insist on traditional clothes, I've got some boxers and a t-shirt you can borrow to be more comfortable."

I nodded that the clothes were definitely how I wanted to proceed, and he moved into a bedroom, coming back with a pair of cotton black boxers and a gray Army t-shirt that was old enough to be slightly thin and baby soft.

"These are going to be big on you, but I think they'll work well enough to hang out and watch a movie."

I nodded again, realizing I was imitating a ventriloquist dummy, so I forced myself to actually use my mouth to thank him and then turned to the bathroom for a shower. I yanked my clothes off, carefully peeled off the microphone and switched it off, and then took my time washing the contact I'd had with Hamilton off my skin. By the time I was finally starting to feel as though I was me again, the water was beginning to run cool.

After drying off, I put on the outfit Lester had given me and then took a moment to revel in the feel of wearing his clothes. This was ridiculous. I was definitely happier than I'd been in a long time, hanging out with Bobby and Lester, but it wasn't real. They were a couple, and even though it never felt that way, I was still a third wheel here. I took a moment to pull myself together after that shot of realism and decided that tonight, I was just going to enjoy being with them, but starting tomorrow, I was going to find a way to reclaim my life. I was going to learn to stand up for myself, and maybe, I'd even find someone out there who was willing to stand by my side while I was doing it.

And if I couldn't find them right away, apparently I had a friend who knew how to cook a favorite dessert of mine, so I at least had that consolation to look forward to.


	10. Shade of Blue

_The characters below are a product of JE's creativity, not mine._

_Jenny (JenRar) I can't thank you enough for your hard work as the beta on this story._

_Dina (aydinbydin) thanks for pointing out how sexy a guy's back and shoulders can be, and for suggesting what Stephanie gets to see after her shower. _

**Chapter 10 – Shade of Blue**

_Lester's POV_

I gave Stephanie some of my clothes that I thought had the greatest likelihood of fitting her well enough for her to be comfortable, and then I forced myself to walk away, giving her some privacy for a shower.

As soon as I returned to the kitchen, I saw Bobby had ripped off his RangeMan shirt, leaving him bare-chested in the kitchen, surrounded by ingredients to pull together the brownies he'd promised Steph.

As soon as he noticed me, he called out, "Quick, while she's in the shower, help me pull these together."

I knew my way around a kitchen enough to keep from starving, and I could make a mean pot of chili, but for the most part, Bobby did the chef thing for us. "I don't bake," I reminded him, wondering why he was spazzing out about this. I'd seen him pull together stuff a lot harder than dessert without a bit of stress.

He nearly rolled his eyes, proving Stephanie was rubbing off on us in all kinds of unexpected ways, but caught himself and said, "I'm not asking you to open a restaurant; I just need to you grate the zucchini."

I rushed into the kitchen so that we could talk quieter and not run the risk of her hearing the obviously plotting he was doing. "Have you lost your mind? These are for Stephanie; she'll use that killer knee against you if she thinks you laced her brownies with vegetables."

He didn't seem the least bit worried about my take on her response. "It's better than the ones Mooner keeps trying to give her."

While I agreed with him, I wasn't entirely sure she would. "She'd rather have pot than zucchini."

"Look, I have no problem with her having an occasional dessert, but there is no reason for it to be empty calories, either. This way, she'll have the sugar she needs and I'll be able to let her eat it in peace because I'll know she's getting fiber and manganese."

"What in the hell is manganese?" I asked before thinking.

"It's a trace mineral that we all need. Basically, it does two things. It aids your body to produce an enzyme responsible for healthy skin and healing, which reduces the stress on your body to maintain the epidermis. And it encourages the production of sex hormones."

"You should have led with the last part," I advised, hearing all I needed in order to want to help. I pulled my shirt off as well, not wanting to get chocolate on it, and hoped if she stayed in the shower long enough there might be a chance for me to press my skin against my partner's.

He smiled, pushed a couple of green squash my way, and instructed, "Shut up and grate so they'll be in the oven before she comes out."

With us working together, we got them mixed and in the pan in under ten minutes. After Bobby put them in the oven, he began to clean off the counter. When he grabbed the bowl, I had to speak up.

"Don't put the bowl in the sink. You promised she could have some dough."

He grimaced, obviously not caring for that idea. "It has raw egg in it. She really shouldn't eat it."

While I had always respected his medical opinion, this was one instance where I thought he needed to drop his rigid rules and just give her what she wanted. I couldn't see the harm in a few licks of raw dough, even with a tiny trace of egg.

I decided to try distracting him in the hopes of changing his mind. I moved to stand on his side of the counter instead of allowing the bar to remain between us. Then I reminded him, "But a promise is a promise, and I'd hate to see her turn on you for breaking your word."

Bobby smiled, and I knew he was going to give her the bowl. "You feeling a little protective for some reason?"

That question was all it took to let me know he wanted to play, and since Steph wasn't known for her speedy showers, I stalked toward him, holding my smile back when he took a step toward the counter and away from me. "Let's just say I have big plans for you tonight, and I need _all_ your parts in working order."

I was right in front of him when he asked, "Is it just me or since we've started hanging out more often with Stephanie, are we..."

The question hung out there, but I knew exactly what he was after, so I finished the thought for him. "…hornier?"

His head dipped slightly in a rare showing of timidity, which only caused my cock to stand up and take notice. "Well, yeah," he agreed with my word choice.

I spun Bobby around so that his back was to me and then pushed so that he was pressed into the counter with my chest firmly against his back. "I'm glad you feel it, too, so I don't feel the need to control it anymore."

He gave a barely noticeable laugh before asking, "This is controlling it?"

As strange as it sounded, I felt like I'd been trying to keep a lid on just how much I wanted him lately. I knew some of it was because he was a sexy guy and being with him physically always left me satisfied and spent. But since we'd been spending so much time with Stephanie, my drive had definitely increased.

I felt like he was waiting on an answer, so I responded, "You have no idea," but the breathless sound of my voice was more telling than my words.

He laughed again, a little stronger this time, and tilted his head back to respond, "I should have made a bigger pan of brownies."

Some part of my brain agreed with that, but it wasn't the part that was in control at the moment. Right now, all I could focus on was the fact that the guy I slept with was pressed against my crotch and neither of us was wearing a shirt, so our skin was touching. That was all it took to short circuit everything else. My hands grabbed his hips forcefully and my mouth landed on his neck. Bobby's head dropped forward, giving me greater access to that place behind his ear that I knew drove him crazy.

I ran my tongue over his dark skin, savoring the taste of him. It was slightly salty, but warm and familiar. I shut my eyes and drew in a deep breath, letting it out over the skin that I'd just wet with my tongue. When he let out a long, low moan, my hips pulled back and then thrust forward, pressing my erection into the valley of his ass.

I knew this body. I knew exactly what to do to drive him ape shit crazy, and I knew exactly how it would make me feel. When I was with Bobby, I felt connected and grounded, and I never had to hold back, because I knew just how strong he was and exactly what he could handle. I'd pushed the envelope with him enough over the years to know what I could give him and to trust that if I ever crossed a line, he'd pull me gently back.

Of course, thinking of crossing sexual lines with Bobby did nothing to slow things down, and I continued to slowly pivot my hips, pressing harder into him and leaving no doubt about the effect he was having on me.

I felt him practically melting against me, which made my mind go into overdrive, envisioning all the ways I wanted to take him before those brownies were done. But before I could get too far with my mental porno, Bobby suddenly straightened up and elbowed me in the abs.

I started to ask him why in the hell he'd done that. I wasn't opposed to rough play, but we couldn't make that kind of noise with Stephanie in the shower. No sooner had I thought that than I realized the water was no longer running.

I heard a moan come from across the room that sounded like someone had just given Stephanie a huge piece of that pineapple cake she loved so much and told her to go at it. I turned my head, careful to keep my hips tight against Bobby's ass. I wasn't one to give a free show of how freaky I could be, and until my dick decided to at least go to half mast, that little soldier was going to have to stay out of sight.

"Sorry, Steph," Bobby spoke first, "We didn't hear the water turn off." Bobby's voice was definitely deeper than usual, and I smiled, knowing how affected he was since his bedroom voice was coming out.

She shook her head and spoke with a dreamy look on her face. "I'd gladly turn the water back on if you two would go back to what you were doing."

I put my forehead on Bobby's naked shoulder and laughed. I had a feeling she hadn't intended to say that out loud.

"What?" she asked, probably wondering what was so funny. Then her face turned a lovely shade of red, and she tugged at the t-shirt as though some how covering more of her body might keep us from remembering what she'd confessed to.

"I didn't take you as one who'd like to watch," I teased her, hoping she'd play along with me.

She put one of her bare feet on top of the other in a pose that was both shy and sexy as hell rolled into one and then responded, "I didn't think I would be, either, but you two are…" Her voice faded, and her tongue darted out to moisten her lips. Damn, if I kept watching her, I'd never get myself back under control enough to back away from Bobby and not give her a show.

Before she could figure out how to finish that sentence, the buzzer went off, indicating the brownies were done. I was forced to take a few steps back so he could get to the oven and tried to discretely adjust myself, cursing my habit of going commando so that I didn't have anything in place to hold my erection back.

Bobby put the pan on the counter beside the bowl, and I watched as she climbed up on a stool on the opposite side of the bar and pulled the mixing container to her, lifting the spoon to her mouth and using her tongue to clear it off. I wondered if any permanent damage could happen from keeping the blood pooled between my legs for extended periods of time, preventing it from flowing properly to the rest of my body.

I glanced over and saw Bobby watching her with the same sense of strain visible on his face that I was feeling. She was sex walking, and how she could be unaware of the power she held over all men was beyond me.

If I'd had any concerns about how Bobby felt for Stephanie, his next action would have set me straight. He pulled down a small plate, then took the spatula and cut out a large square from the center of the pan and put it on the dish in front of her. "Here. You get the one from the center because it is the best one in the pan," he said, explaining his actions.

Bobby had rules for how things were done, and one of those included starting at one side and eating across in an orderly manner. The fact that he'd just dived into the middle, giving her what he considered to be the best he had to offer, despite it creating a hole in the center of his pan, was telling.

She set the spoon in the bowl and focused on the plate in front of her, giving Bobby the opportunity to take the raw egg coated container to the sink and quickly fill it up with soapy water to keep her from eating any more. She put a bit of the cooked version in her mouth and shut her eyes to get the full tasting experience, letting us know she no longer cared about the raw dough.

"Oh, my God, this is good," she blurted out as part compliment, part moan.

Then her eyes opened, putting me instantly on edge. It was hard to fight a decade worth of reflexes, and that much surprise made me do a quick glance around for possible threats.

"These are delicious, but why did you put something healthy in my dessert?" she asked, letting me know Bobby's attempt to hide the vegetables wasn't successful.

"How did you know there was anything in there other than chocolate?" he foolishly asked.

She gave him a look that was a cross between amusement and disbelief that he'd even ask. "You should know by know that I practically bleed Hershey. So what did you do?"

"Zucchini," he confessed, having the good sense to look slightly ashamed.

She reached over the bar and put her hand on his, squeezing him briefly. "I think if you put a scoop of ice cream on top, I wouldn't be able to taste it as much."

He spun around, pulled out the frozen yogurt from our freezer, and put a small dollop on top of her still warm brownie.

"I said a scoop, not a grazing," she teased, getting him to repeat the serving again to give her what she must have deemed to be an acceptable amount.

On her next bite, she moaned first and then said, "I was right; that is so good."

Bobby put the yogurt away, and I noticed he lingered with his back to us, obviously trying to adjust his cargos with little success.

"So do you guys always cook without your clothes on?" she asked innocently, as though she were discussing the weather.

Bobby and I looked at each other, neither entirely sure how to respond to her seemingly simple question.

I decided to help him out and offered, "We took off our shirts because we were cooking something chocolate and it could stain."

"You wear all black," she stated the obvious, making a point I couldn't refute.

"We do wear other colors sometimes..." Bobby seemed to have found his voice once more. "And out of habit, we took off our shirts to keep them clean."

"If it bothers you, we can certainly cover up again," I said, leaning forward across the bar and pinching a piece of brownie for myself. I couldn't taste the zucchini at all. Knowing how gifted she was at discerning taste made me wonder what other amazing things she might be able to do with her mouth.

Her face was covered in a blush, but she pushed past her obvious embarrassment to respond, "Not on my account. I kind of like the scenery."

At least we had the answer about whether or not she found us even somewhat attractive. Before my mind could go anywhere else, Bobby asked about watching a movie. Stephanie looked down at her plate and then back up, showing she wanted to, but she wasn't keen on leaving her dessert, either.

"Bring it with you, and if you eat it all, we'll refill it for you," I suggested, getting one of her award winning smiles in return.

We settled onto the couch while Bobby got the movie ready to go. I smiled when she sat in the middle, in what I now thought of as her place between us. She pulled her feet up to make room for Bobby and leaned against my side so I could put an arm over her and bury it in her hair.

"You look good in my shirt," I blurted out, thankful she couldn't see my face at the moment. That was definitely not one of my smoother confessions.

She glanced down and replied, "I've never understood how guys' t-shirts get so much softer than mine. I could sleep in this one."

I let my head fall on the back of the couch with the image of her spending the whole night in nothing but my worn Army shirt. I moved a little to make room in my pants for the quickly reappearing issue and tried to think about anything other than how she'd look sleeping in my clothes.

Bobby returned to the sofa and sat down, before grabbing her ankles and pulling her legs across his lap. His hand started moving, first on the balls of her feet, massaging and rubbing, but I knew before the movie was out, he'd have worked from her soles to her thighs. I knew what his hands could do, and I smiled, knowing how even though she was clueless about what we really wanted to do with her, we were still able to give her pleasure in small ways. Of course, that type of thought only increased the pressure in my pants, because I started to think about what it could be like to give her pleasure in more than just these little increments.

Less than thirty minutes into the movie, she'd polished off her third brownie and was beginning to fade, leaning against me. I scooted down so I was more reclined in order to encourage her to lay back more against me. Before the film made it to the midway point, she was asleep and neither Bobby nor I were paying attention to the screen in front of us anymore, focusing solely on the woman sprawled out across us.

"She was exhausted," Bobby whispered, keeping his voice soft to be sure we didn't wake her. "Even for her, she fell asleep fast after she stopped eating. I figured the sugar would jazz her a little, but she's out." He pushed the hair that had crept across her face so that we could see her more clearly.

"I wonder why she was so worn out," I questioned to no one in particular. "She's been getting plenty of rest," I observed, checking under her eyes again to be sure there were no dark circles hiding there.

"I think the distractions take a toll on her that we don't understand. I mean, even on a job like tonight that went textbook simple, she has this need to shower afterward and get the effects of the night off of her," he pointed out. "Maybe it drains her in ways we don't understand."

"Do you think we should talk to the guys about not asking her to do them as much?" I wondered.

"No," he quickly responded. "She'd be beyond pissed if she found out we were interfering in her work like that."

"Was it harder for you tonight?" I asked, curious if I was the only one that felt it.

"You mean watching that skip dance with her?" he clarified, picking up on exactly what I'd been thinking.

"I tried to focus on her, because whenever I let myself look at the skip and saw how much he was enjoying having her close to him, I had to remind myself that if I marched over there and knocked the guy on his ass, I'd ruin the carefully laid out plan to get the skip," I explained my struggle.

"I was relieved when she finally spoke up about needing fresh air, because I was running out of control measures," he confessed.

"Let me guess..." I tried to bring to mind all the things I'd caught him doing over the years to stay calm. "Deep breathes, flexing your hands, counting, and then counting backwards."

"Yeah, but that only got me through the first dance." He smiled ruefully. "By the time they were done, I had gone through my anatomy studies, naming the all bones and muscles in the body, and was about to have to start over from the beginning."

"Hell, at least we're in this together," I commented, getting a good bit of comfort from that fact.

By the time the movie ended, it was nearly 0200 hours. I looked at her sleeping so peacefully between us and asked, "Where should we put her? In the spare room or between us?"

Bobby opened his mouth to respond, but she moved a little, grabbing my arm tightly in her grip, and mumbled, "Stay with my boys."

I guess she settled that then. Bobby moved her feet so that he could stand up and lift her from my side. I missed her body against mine, but I knew having her in our bed was going to more than make up for it.

The only thing that could improve that feeling would be having her there, understanding what it meant to us and returning that feeling in some way. We'd done a good job of finding ways to spend time with her. We'd done everything we could think of to take care of her and watch over her, proving we weren't going anywhere and we weren't trying to change her in the process. We'd tried being subtle so that we didn't scare her off, but the more time we spent with her, the harder it was to do that. I wasn't sure how Bobby felt about it, but I was beginning to think it was about time to be a little more direct about how we felt.

She'd seen us making out in the kitchen, and her reaction had given me reason to hope that she liked it enough that the idea of joining in might be exciting. If we were going to take her dancing again tomorrow night, maybe we could figure out a way to be more direct in what we wanted to have happen.

I laid down on my side of the bed and held out my arms for Bobby to lower her gently against me before climbing in on her other side. We definitely needed to take this to the next level, because many more nights of her in our bed without us being able to act on it was going to make part of my body match the gorgeous color of her eyes. As much as I loved the dark hue on her, I wasn't so sure it would be as appealing between my legs.


	11. Calls for Help

_I'm having a great time playing with the characters JE created._

_Jenny (JenRar) thank you for your willingness to read everything I send you. The time you spend make sense out of my ramblings is above and beyond the typical beta work and I truly appreciate it._

_Dina (aydinbydin), here's a little something new for you. _

**Chapter 11 – Calls for Help**

_Bobby's POV_

My phone rang, and I nearly jumped, having forgotten that I had it on ring instead of vibrate. Fortunately, working with Vince in the field meant I didn't have to worry about him saying anything. I knew from his last physical that his peripheral vision wasn't what it should be, and since he was completely focused on the store front in front of us, I knew that he hadn't seen my flinch.

I answered without looking at the caller ID, figuring if someone had this number, they had a valid reason for using it, too. "Brown," I answered, giving whoever it was on the other end all they were going to get to be sure they had the right number.

"Bobby?" came a soft voice that made me lean forward slightly.

"Hey, Steph." I tried to keep my tone light and friendly, despite the fact that my heart rate was currently going double time. She'd texted me a few times, but she'd never called my cell phone directly. I'd decided that she'd have to be in trouble to ever reach out to me, which was precisely why my heart was now doing a marching band imitation. "What's up?" I asked, hoping she'd lay it out there for me – and quickly.

"I'm so sorry about calling like this." She sounded genuinely worried about interrupting my afternoon, which only proved Les and I had a lot more work to do in order to have her trust us. Obviously she didn't believe us when we told her there was nothing we wouldn't do for her.

"Stop that," I jumped in, not willing to let her apologize. "You know I love hearing your voice, no matter when it is. You just made my day. Now, tell me what I can do for you."

Vince glanced over, and since my vision scope was perfect, I could see the raised eyebrow, but I didn't give a shit. I outranked him in every possible scenario, so I pointed to the storefront we were supposed to be keeping an eye on, basically commanding him to keep the surveillance going while I took this call.

I heard her let out a breath on the line and waited, knowing sometimes she needed to get herself together before she could talk. Finally, she said, "I was trying to pick up a skip, and I think something went wrong."

This wasn't exactly what I expected, but it didn't tell me enough to know if I could take a breath in relief yet. "What do you mean, you _think_ something went wrong?"

"Well, I found my skip," she began, before taking a shaky inhale, "but I think he's dead."

"Baby, where are you?" I blurted out, realizing that I didn't give a shit about the surveillance shift I was barely halfway through.

I pulled the phone away from my face and looked at Vince, who was once again looking at me as though I'd lost my mind. I realized then I'd slipped and called Steph by something other than her name. I'd worry about that later. Right now, I needed to get wherever she was. I mouthed the words, _We're__ leaving, call for backup_, to Vince and then looked back to the windshield, taking away his ability to ask any follow up questions.

Steph rattled off an address as I turned the key in the ignition, not bothering to wait for our backup to arrive. I had a feeling Ranger would understand – after all, I was following a standing order to watch over her. But at the end of the day, I didn't really give a shit. She needed me, and there wasn't a thing in hell I wouldn't do to help her.

I got us to the location Stephanie had given and saw it was a small duplex. Her car was parked at the curb, so I knew this was the right place. The front door of the left side unit opened, and Stephanie stepped out with her arms crossed over her stomach like she was freezing cold. I worried that whatever was in that house had put her in shock, because it was unseasonably warm so there was no reason for her to be so chilled.

"Call Lester," I told Vince, before adding, "And keep an eye open out here." If he thought there was some threat, he might be more willing to stay out of the house and secure the perimeter so that I didn't have to guard the way I was acting around Stephanie after the pet name slip up earlier.

I was barely to the steps of the porch when she started talking, her voice cracking as evidence of how emotional she was. "Thank you for coming. I didn't know who else to call…maybe he isn't dead and he's just really tired so I couldn't wake him up."

Ah, there was that side trip to denial that she used as her handy coping mechanism. When we walked in the house, I realized why she was keeping her arms crossed. The air conditioning was obviously running full blast, because it was freezing like a meat locker. She led us to the back room, where an older male – mid-sixties – was stretched out in a leather recliner, completely naked, with the mother of all boners on display. The skin around his mouth was slightly blue, but whether that was from lack of blood flow or the cold air, I had no way of knowing. I walked over and put my hands on his neck, already knowing there would be no pulse, but still determined to verify it before speaking.

"He's definitely gone," I confirmed. "Any idea why he doesn't have on any clothes?" I knew it wasn't the best question, but I figured if I could keep her talking, she wouldn't dwell on being around someone who wasn't living.

She surprised me by shrugging and said, "Mr. Kolinsky was arrested for public indecency about eight times a year, so I'm thinking he was just more comfortable naked." Then she pointed at the little end table next to his chair and asked, "Did he kill himself?"

There was an open bottle of pills; some were spilled out on the tabletop, and some had fallen on the floor. I didn't even need to look to know what they were. The shape and shade of blue was enough to identify them. "I don't know how many of the Viagra pills he took, but if he had a weak heart, it's possible that's what did it." I believed in being honest, but that question could only be answered by a coroner.

I picked up my phone and called it in, hanging up in time to see Stephanie wipe a tear off her cheek. "Did you know him?" I wondered.

"I'd brought him in a few times. Usually, he'd let me knock, and then he'd yell out for me to wait a minute or two before calling out that I could come in. He'd always be naked and sitting in that chair like he was some kind of pin up model waiting for his close-up. The door was unlocked when I arrived, so when he didn't answer, I just let myself in and found him."

"Did he have a pulse when you came in?" I wondered why exactly she'd needed me. I knew she'd been around dead people before and hadn't seemed this rattled.

"I don't know. I didn't want to touch him, but he looked dead, and even when I screamed at him, he didn't move, so I figured he was," she explained. Then she unfolded her arms and reached into her back pocket to pull out a folded piece of paper. "I called you because this was on the table."

I straightened out the piece of paper she handed me and read the note written in a shaky script.

_Stephanie, don't go upstairs. Sorry that I won't get to take our ride to the station. I was looking forward to showing off my new tattoo. Thanks for your help over the years. Kolinsky_

I looked at her and knew I had to ask, "Did you go upstairs?"

She shook her head no, and I let out my first breath of relief. "Good." I was glad that she'd followed his advice, figuring there had to be a reason he went through the trouble of warning her.

Before I could try to convince her to go outside and wait with Vince, there were footsteps on the porch, coming fast enough that I spun around, pushing Stephanie behind me and sighting my Glock at the doorway to be prepared for whatever was trying to get to us.

When Lester's face came into my field of vision, I quickly reengaged the safety and stepped aside so that he could see Stephanie was okay.

"Hey, Beautiful," Les called out, coming to stand beside her in a few efficient steps.

She turned to him and let him pull her against his chest before he looked over her head at me, obviously searching for some clue about what was going on. I held up the note, and when he glanced back to me after reading it, I pointed at the skip in the recliner behind us and watched as Les took in the whole scene, including the rather impressive stiffy on the old dead guy.

I waited for his eyes to roam over to the stairs and back to me, obviously asking if I'd gone up there yet. I shook my head no, realizing how impressive it was that he was totally up to speed already and I hadn't said a word. We didn't have ESP, despite what Stephanie claimed, but we did know each other well enough to anticipate the questions the other would pose.

Before he could say anything, I heard the siren of an ambulance and a blue and white and knew I should meet them outside to let them know what to expect.

"Steph..." I didn't want to disappear without letting her know first. I knew she was in good hands with Lester here, but she had called me for help, and I definitely didn't want to allow the impression to be that I'd passed her off. "I'm going to deal with the authorities and Mr. Kolinsky."

She nodded, but didn't appear to be attempting to pull away from Lester. I glanced up at him, and he nodded, lifting his chin in the direction of the door, obviously telling me that he had her so I could go do what needed to be done. It took only thirty minutes for them to get the full story and get the skip zipped up in the bag that was going to take him out.

By that time, a few more cops had arrived, increasing the circus feel around us. Fortunately, the final car was a tan Ford sedan that had definitely seen better days, but that we knew contained one Joseph Morelli. As much as we all hated the time he spent with Stephanie, we also knew that he'd be on her side and that she'd be comfortable with him around. Whatever they used to have together had been settled, and they were beginning to form a friendship that was all they should have shared from the beginning. They were great pizza, beer, and game buddies, but anytime they tried to add more than that into the mix, it became explosive. Luckily, they'd realized it on their own before anybody else had to intercede.

I showed him the note and gave him the run down of what I'd found when I arrived. He listened, made a few notes, read the note, and then did an initial glance around the house before focusing on Lester, who was still holding Stephanie in his arms. She'd turned around so she could answer the questions addressed to her, but the grip she had on Lester's arms made it obvious that she didn't want him to let her go. Morelli's eyes narrowed slightly at the two of them. I knew the cop had moved on and was seeing a nurse at the hospital. My sources at St. Francis had told me it was serious and a good match for both of them. But I still understood how difficult it must be for him to see anyone else holding her.

He nearly chuckled before catching himself, shaking his head and mumbling, "Always thought it'd be Manoso."

I let the comment go, figuring it must be some sort of 'Burg thing to speak your private thoughts aloud.

"I want to go upstairs," I announced, bringing Morelli back to the present.

"Should probably wait for the bomb guys," he replied, proving that he was a good cop by his insistence on playing it by the books.

Luckily, I had a way around that. "No need to wait," I announced, glancing out the window to see Vince was still at the curb. "I've got one outside."

"If he's willing, that would be okay, but I have to go in behind you two to keep the integrity of the scene for whatever is up there," he demanded.

I would have made a comment about the fact that RangeMan was more than adept at maintaining scene integrity, but decided he was giving me what I wanted, so I wasn't going to push him into changing his mind.

I called Vince inside, gave him the cliff notes version of what was going on, and then told him we needed him to clear the way upstairs and check for any explosives that might be why the deceased had warned Stephanie to stay away.

Vince ran back out to the truck and grabbed his box of tricks before coming back in, more than willing to help. He turned on a couple of meters that were designed to pick up several explosive agents and electrical impulses and began clearing each step. It was a slow process, but I knew better than to rush him. He had to verify that nothing had been tampered with to install a trigger either by weight or threshold crossing, and he was trying to look for anything else that could present a danger. The last thing he needed to do was go fast enough that he missed the detail that could take all our lives.

It was an almost painstaking progress, but I refused to back down and wait for him to announce the all clear. I couldn't face Stephanie again until I had something concrete to tell her about why she'd gotten that note.

As soon as we got to the landing, I realized immediately why he hadn't wanted her to go upstairs. It wasn't a threat to her; it was his way of protecting her innocence.

He had models of the male anatomy on every possible surface. Pictures of naked men, dildos, plaster models – hell, even a couple that I was sure were made of paper mache. On a small table that looked like a craft station equipped with supplies of all sorts, there was a medical transcript, which I couldn't help but look at. Based on the tests run and the results they were giving him, it looked at though Mr. Kolinsky had testicular cancer. The date on the letter had been over a year ago, making me jump to the conclusion that it was going to take his life, or at the very least, part of his anatomy which he seemed to be completely obsessed with. Behind the little craft station, there was a bookshelf with some anatomy books that I recognized from my own studies and some framed photos. Of course, most of them included the dead guy naked and smiling, as though everyone had their picture taken in the buff. But in the middle of the shelf was a birthday card. I slipped on some gloves and picked it up, not the least bit surprised when I saw it was from Stephanie. She'd signed it, _Happy__Birthday, Kolinsky. Thanks__ for always letting me bring you in. ~ Stephanie._

I'd seen enough to know Steph wasn't in any danger. I set the card down in time to see Morelli shake his head.

"Wow, I always knew the old guy was crazy, but this is some kind of obsessed."

I had to agree with him. "Thanks for letting us check it out. We just had to be sure she wasn't in any danger."

"I think it's safe to say the only risk here would be losing an eye," he said, having to duck around a rather realistic model poking out of the wall near his face.

Vince stopped me at the top of the stairs and said, "Man, I'm going to need some serious whisky to get this shit out of my head."

I glanced at my watch and saw our shift was over. "You're off the clock. What you do on your own time is your business."

"You coming back to Haywood now?" he asked, reminding me we'd ridden to the house together.

"Nah, go ahead and take the truck. I'll catch a ride with Santos," I assured him, bumping my fist to his when he raised it.

When I rejoined Lester and Stephanie, they were in exactly the same position I'd left them in, except her head was now resting against his chest as well. I got the impression that if it were possible, she would have gladly melted into him.

I walked over and stopped right in front of her, hooking a bent finger under her chin to be sure I had her full attention. "You did the right thing calling me. There's no threat to you upstairs. The guy had a weird hobby, and I don't think he wanted you to see it."

"What?" she asked, wrinkling her face as she tried to figure out my cryptic words. "Did he collect something unusual?"

"Dicks," I told her bluntly.

"Real ones?" she asked in a panic; if possible, she went from pale white to slightly green.

"No!" I quickly assured her. "Just models, and pictures, drawings, and sculptures. Pretty much every possible surface up there is covered with something related to the male anatomy. I think he liked you and didn't want you to see just how obsessed he was."

She accepted my words and then turned her head slightly, the only indication that another question was about to come. "How do you know he liked me?"

"You gave him a birthday card at some point, and he kept it near a work table he had up there," I replied.

She smiled. "I found a bakery that made cupcakes with naughty things on them, and when I found out they could make one of a guy's…you know…" She was blushing beautifully, trying to avoid saying the word penis. "Anyway, I got one for him and brought it over with the card. That was the only time he volunteered to put on a coat before I took him into the station."

This woman was amazing. She worked among criminals, but half her skips were brought in because she seemed to show some kind of genuine concern for them. I decided to tell her my own guess for what happened to the guy.

"Only the coroner can confirm this, but I think he'd had testicular cancer for quite some time, and my guess is that it was either getting to be too painful, or maybe it was nearing the end and he didn't want to go out without the full function of his favorite body part, so he took his life after cranking up the A/C so his body would last until you came because he knew you'd take care of him."

She smiled slightly, not laughing at what I was saying, but probably seeing the likelihood of what I was describing. "Now I'm sorry I didn't have them keep the bag unzipped when they rolled him out. After taking those pills, I think he would have liked being on display to the neighborhood all straight and proud."

I smiled at her comment. "Yeah, I think you're right about that."

She let go of Lester's arms with one of her hands and used it to grip my hand under her chin. "I'm sorry if I worried you."

I leaned in, close enough to kiss her hair, and spoke without looking her in the eye. "You can stop that right now. I didn't let you apologize when you first called, and I'm even less inclined to listen to you try it now. You needed somebody, and I can't tell you how good it feels to know you thought of me."

"I thought of both of you," she replied, obviously seeing us as a package deal. It was a fair statement; we both felt like half a man without the support we gave each other. "But since there was a dead body, I figured your background fit better."

Les leaned down to press his lips on the back of her hair before leaning forward and placing a quick kiss on the rows covering my head, too.

I started to pull back, not wanting to crowd her, but she made a noise that gave me the impression she didn't want me to move, and her hand dropped mine to grip the back of my neck, holding me against her. "Just for a minute," she pleaded, tearing a hole in my heart that she felt like there was a chance we wouldn't want to hold her between us.

Eddie came over and cleared his throat, breaking up the brief moment of paradise. He seemed uncertain of whether or not he'd interrupted something important, but true to his nature, he kept his mouth shut about that and simply held out a slip of paper that I recognized as the body receipt for Kolinsky.

"I can't take that; I didn't bring him in," she pointed out.

"You discovered him. He was already deceased. There are no signs of foul play; maybe he took his life, maybe he died of natural causes, but either way, you brought him back to the system, and I think he'd want you to get the credit for it," he explained patiently, before holding the receipt out once more.

She took a deep breath before accepting the piece of paper. "I think Vinnie would be pissed if I didn't."

Eddie let her take it and then said, "If you don't want the money, feel free to give it to me. Shirley's birthday is next month, and she's got it in her head that she needs diamond earrings."

"I'm sure you'll find a way to get what she wants," Steph assured him.

"I'd better, or everybody will hear about it," he replied with a smile. His wife did have a bit of a reputation for complaining about things, but he didn't seem to mind it too much. "Why don't you head on out," he prompted us. "There's nothing left here but the final cop work. You've done everything you could."

She nodded and stood up a little straighter, looking as though she was finally okay to stand without Les behind her, supporting her frame. I could tell from his expression that even though he was glad to see she was strong and together enough to walk away, he didn't like having to let her out of his arms. After that brief moment of having us all together with Steph there as the glue between us, I didn't care for it, either. But at heart, I knew that the scene of a death was probably not the place where any big relationship epiphanies should occur.

"You need us to take you to Vinnie's?" Lester offered.

As much as I wanted her to say yes, I wasn't really surprised when she declined. "No, I think I'll take this receipt to Connie, talk to the girls for a while, and then head home."

"You'll call if you need anything?" I asked, needing to be sure she understood it didn't matter what.

I got a faint smile before she nodded and said, "Yeah, I'll give you a call. I think a long shower and a long night of sleep will make things look better in the morning."

"You want some company tonight?" Lester offered. We'd spent time with her every day for the last month, and even though we'd been together at the scene, this definitely didn't count as the kind of laid back interaction we had gotten used to.

"No, I think I'll do best if it's just me tonight," she said, sounding certain of her decision. "But it might be nice to have company for dinner tomorrow."

I grinned at her suggestion. "How about I cook? I'm on early in the morning, and then I'll have all afternoon to come up with something to tempt you."

She reached out for my hand and squeezed it. "That sounds perfect, but don't make it too healthy."

I ran my finger down the side of her cheek and shook my head. "Only you could talk me into cooking something that wasn't healthy."

I stepped up and kissed her face, near where my finger had just been, and then told her goodbye, forcing myself to walk away so that I didn't turn heavy handed and demand she let one of us spend the rest of the day with her. I knew she was going to go home and cry, and it was killing me that she was going to be alone for that. But I also knew that part of loving Stephanie was respecting her when she tried to put up boundaries. It was her life, and we needed to trust her when she shared what she wanted. Anything else, and we were no different from the highhanded approach of her mother or Morelli, or even the more subtle pressure of Ranger, forcing her to do things for her own good, instead of letting her come to her own decisions of what was right for her.

I watched Lester bend down to kiss her too, whispering something that made her smile and push his chest playfully.

She followed us out, and after verifying she was buckled in, we stepped back so she could drive away, leaving a plume of exhaust hanging in the air as evidence that she'd gone.

"We can't check on her tonight, can we?" Lester asked, looking in the direction that she'd driven away.

"Not unless she calls us," I stated, wishing it was as easy as I made it sound to watch her turn the corner away from our field of vision.

"Damn," he summed up my feeling exactly.

I bumped my shoulder into his, letting him know I agreed, and then tried to mask my surprise when he flung his arm over my shoulders, pulling me tightly to him so that I couldn't repeat the assault.

I never would have believed that the two of us pursuing Stephanie would bring us closer together, but that was exactly what had happened. I knew we both wanted her in our lives, and small things like the freedom to show our affection publicly might seem insignificant to some people, but I recognized it as just one of many signs of the positive influence that girl was to us.

Maybe tonight, while it was just the two of us, we could discuss how to be more direct in our approach to make our intentions known. We'd gone with subtle for a while, and while it was working to form a close relationship, I wasn't sure she was clearly seeing our attention for what it was. Somehow, we needed to find a way to lay it on the line and see how she'd react. That might be exactly what we needed to keep us in our apartment instead of driving over to her place and stalking her, despite her instruction that she wanted to be alone.

And if we were creative enough, maybe this would be the last time she'd pull away, thinking it was better to be by herself instead of by our side.


	12. For Medicinal Purposes

_I feel as though I owe JE an apology for all I've done to her creation._

_Jenny (JenRar) I probably owe you an apology too for forcing you to read chapters that weren't well written and were covered with errors. Thank you for sorting them all out as the beta on this story._

_Dina (aydinbydin) thank you for the suggestion of how Stephanie finally starts to see the guys' attention for what it truly is._

**Chapter 12 – For Medicinal Purposes**

_Stephanie's POV_

"Naked man was dead?" Lula asked, wanting me to clarify the state I'd found Mr. Kolinsky.

"Yes, he wasn't wearing any clothes, he'd turned the air conditioning on full blast so that his house was freezing, and he'd taken Viagra." I was randomly sharing details, but I needed to say it to get the mental image out of my head.

"And he left you a note?" Lula picked up on something else I'd mentioned when I first got there.

"Yes, he told me not to go upstairs," I explained.

"Did you go anyway?" she pushed. "I'd have gone anyway just to see what he was hiding."

I shook my head. "No, I didn't go. I was worried that he might have something dangerous in there."

"So you still don't know what he was hiding?" She sounded doubtful.

I grimaced, knowing Lula wasn't likely to let this go until I leveled with her, and once she got the truth, I wasn't sure that was going to do anything in this instance to close the issue. "After the cops arrived, a team went upstairs and checked it out. Apparently, it was safe, but it was full of…you know…" I pointed to my crotch, hoping she'd say it so that I didn't have to.

Lula's face wrinkled as she tried to figure out my awkward sign language. "His upstairs was full of pants? Why didn't he want you to see that? There ain't nothing wrong with pants – unless you mean women's pants, like he and Sally should meet, but even then, dressing like a woman is a lot better than swinging those ancient manly bits everywhere like he did."

I had to get this train back on the track or I'd never get to go home. "No, Lula, his upstairs was full of dicks. I guess he had pictures, models, sculptures; everything possible was covered with a replication of a male organ. That's what he didn't want me to see."

"Damn, I want to see that. I mean, you can sort of see that in aisle five of Pleasure Treasures, but when they're all in boxes, it ain't exactly the same thing. So freaky dude had a dick museum? Hell, he should have sold tickets! There's a lot of people out there that would have paid to see that kind of shit."

Then she cut herself off in mid-rant, putting me on edge that her next question wasn't going to be easy. "So after you found him dead and got the note to skip the stairs, who did you call?"

I relaxed. Lula had the same aversion I did to death cooties, so I knew she'd agree with what I did. "I called Bobby from RangeMan."

Her eyes got big, which I hadn't expected. "You called Bobby – the same guy you spent the night with two days ago?"

Obviously, she didn't understand the way it was. "It is the same person I stayed with, but it wasn't just Bobby. He and Lester are tight, and they let me hang out with them. I'm just a friendly third wheel to what they have."

She gave me a look that told me she didn't believe a word I was saying. "You're the third wheel they took dancing last night, right?"

"Yeah, they're both really good at dancing, but they don't like gay clubs, so they go with me and we all get to dance," I explained, figuring she would see how innocent it was by the details.

Her expression didn't change, so I'd obviously not given her enough. "And Lester's been teaching you some moves in the gym, right?"

"Yeah, the guys have gone with me on a couple of take downs, and then they decided I needed to learn at least some basic self defense to keep myself from getting thrown off a porch – again," I replied, wincing at the memory of my multiple flights by the hands of skips who were less than willing to be hauled in.

"Hang on," she jumped in once more. "Who did you go to the movies with on Wednesday?"

"Lester asked me to go with him since Bobby was working late," I said, remembering him introducing me to the idea of pouring M&Ms over hot buttered popcorn. I'd never done that before, and it was absolutely delicious.

"Then who took you to that Japanese place where they cook in front of you?" she asked, looking like there was a great mystery of the universe she couldn't quite figure out.

"Bobby did, but that was Tuesday, because Les had a late shift," I reminded her.

Then I shivered when I remembered the chef making a little volcano out of onion slices on the grill right in front of me. When he'd lit the oil to make the flames, it had gone totally out of control and the fire had shot out of the side instead of through the top. I'd thought for sure my hair was about to catch on fire. Bobby had thrown his glass of water on the flaming vegetable and the momentary panic had been over. I'd used that as justification for not eating any of the grilled vegetables the chef had given me. They'd almost taken my life that night, so I hardly saw why they'd be considered healthy.

"So which one are you dating?" Lula finally asked bluntly.

I blinked a few times, trying to figure out why she was asking that. "They're a couple – with each other; they don't look at me like that."

"Ummhmm." Lula made a noise that told me she wasn't buying anything I just said. Then her eyes got big again, and I knew I was in for it. "You're dating both of them, aren't you? You sly dog. You got two hot men throwing themselves at you, so you ain't picking either one. What's it like in bed having both those hunks around?"

I knew my face now bore a striking resemblance to a fire truck. "No! It isn't like that; they just see me as a friend."

She raised a single eyebrow, showing off a skill I didn't realize she possessed. "Three times, I've tried to get you to go out at night, and you couldn't cause you were doing something with those two. Have you spent a night by yourself this month?"

"Yes," I replied defensively, before thinking. Then I leveled with her. "I've spent every night but two – well, three – by myself, but there have been a bunch of times that they've stayed at my place until I was yawning and too tired to keep my eyes open before they said goodnight."

"Them coming over for dinner and hanging out til bedtime don't sound to me like they think of you as a friend," she pointed out. When she put it like that, it did seem kind of strange. "I mean, if they only wanted each other, they wouldn't be spending all their free time with you."

"But they're a couple. There's no room for a third wheel on a bicycle," I pointed out.

"Girl, they don't want to be a bicycle; they want to be a big-wheel." Lula was smiling like she'd just won the lottery.

"A what?" I blurted out, feeling slightly offended she was saying that because I was involved, the word big was required. I figured Lula of all people wouldn't throw around insults about size. Besides, with all the healthy food Bobby had been feeding me and the takedown lessons with Lester, I was trimmer than I'd ever been.

"A big-wheel – you know, like a tricycle," she explained her reference, taking away my momentary indignation. "They want a non-traditional relationship."

"Where are you getting this from?" I couldn't stop myself from asking.

Lula held up a bubble gum pink fingernail, telling me to wait, and then spun around in Connie's chair to dig through some files on the floor. When she sat back up, she first adjusted her lime green top so that her breasts were no longer in danger of breaking free, and then she opened up a magazine.

"I was doing some research in Cosmo, and there was a whole article in here about non-traditional relationships. I think that's what they want," she said, like she was expert in these things.

"You were doing research in Cosmo?" I challenged.

"Girl, they got surveys and scientific shit in here. This magazine is real, and just 'cause I ain't in the business anymore don't mean I don't want to keep my skills current," she pointed out, as though this were a normal conversation.

Clearly ignoring my reaction to her statement, she plowed on. "See, there are some people that can't be happy in a normal guy/girl thing. Sometimes, it's because they got some kind of freaky thing, like naked man with the dick museum in his attic, and sometimes, it's because the person they love can't do all the sexual shit they need. There's all kinds of reasons why some people need something besides just one person for all their life."

Damn, when she put it like that, it did make sense. "But Bobby and Lester are committed to each other. They already have what they need," I said, not willing to speak about it anymore for fear of betraying their confidence, but after that night when Bobby had a nightmare in my apartment, I totally got why these two warriors needed each other to feel safe out in the world.

"I know that. They ain't looking to break up and just one of them get you. I think they want to bring you into what they got," she explained, pointing to a picture of two good looking guys sitting on opposite ends of a couch. A woman leaned against one of them, her feet being massaged by the other man. Honestly, it was the exact position we always ended up in when we watched movies or started talking late into the night.

I grabbed the magazine from her hands and pulled it toward me to read the caption.

_Trinogomy__ is an often overlooked, but valid and growing relationship __choice, whereby__ three people commit to sharing their lives equally and exclusively with the other people in the relationship_.

"Hell, I didn't realize a threesome had an official name."

"Girl, this ain't talking about a threesome. Didn't you read any of it?" Lula asked, causing me to realize I'd spoken out loud. "A threesome is all about sex, like one of them French ménage things. This is about really digging the other two people you're with so that it's the real deal as a long term thing, not just a wild night of sex."

My mind briefly went to the scene in their apartment when I'd walked out of the bathroom after my shower and seen them making out in the kitchen. Neither had been wearing a shirt, and the muscles in Lester's back had been rolling and moving with every thrust of his hips against Bobby. I hated that I couldn't keep my mouth shut and they'd heard me ogling them, because I'd never seen anything that hot before. Right now, a night of wild sex was sounding pretty damn good to me – especially after the months long dry streak I was enduring.

I shook my head, trying to dislodge the mental image of us having sex. "I need some sugar," I announced when the picture wouldn't go away. Damn Bobby and his healthy food. The low sugar versions of everything I was eating were as tasty as their fully loaded counterparts, but they didn't do anything to keep the edge off my hormones.

"I can't leave, 'cause Vinnie's on a cruise with Lucille and Connie's at the police station writing a bond, so I promised to run things here," Lula said, causing my heart to sink. Lula was the one person I could always count on to be up for eating. Then she proved her best friend status by opening a drawer in Connie's desk and pulling out a bag of miniature chocolates big enough to more than tame the raging sex thoughts taking over in my head. "I think we can call this an emergency and get into Connie's medicine."

"Medicine?" I asked, taking the little peanut butter cup and ripping the foil off with slightly shaking hands. I looked like some kind of junky. Clearly, Bobby and I needed to have a talk about moderation. Well, maybe not moderation, because that's what he was after; we needed to discuss the benefits of a good binge every so often.

"Yeah," Lula said, bringing me back to the pile of chocolate on top of Connie's desk. "She says chocolate helps to offset cramps, so whenever she's extra cranky, I remind her it's chocolate time, and she eats some of this to keep the pain from making her grumpy."

"I don't know how she manages to leave it alone the rest of the month," I replied, admiring her ability to deny herself a treat with such easy access.

"The rest of the month?" Lula blurted out with a laugh. "Girl, Connie needs it for when her ass cramps up from sitting behind this computer doing the work for Vinnie. This ain't got nothing to do with no PMS. When that little visitor comes calling, she uses this." With that description, she opened the bottom drawer on the other side and pulled out a bottle of Jack Daniels.

We looked at each other for a few minutes, and then I said, "You know, I think I'm due for that little visitor soon. Maybe I need a little something to ease the symptoms."

Lula unscrewed the lid and grabbed a couple of paper cups from the water bubbler in the corner, before filling them up with what was probably the equivalent of three shots of whisky. Well, maybe four shots – five at the most.

We clicked our cups together softly and then chugged down the brown liquid, letting the burn go from our tongues to our stomachs. After our breathing returned to normal and the tears stopped forming in my eyes, I looked at Lula, and we both burst out laughing.

"Does this mean, you gonna come round here a little more often?" Lula asked.

"I come by almost every day," I pointed out, grabbing another piece of candy and smiling when it took the terrible whisky taste out of my mouth.

"Yeah, but you ain't been sharing many details, and if you're gonna be getting it on with two of them men, you gonna have to start dishing," Lula explained.

"But I'm not getting it on." I put my hand up to stop where her argument was heading. I looked back down at the open Cosmo and added, "Just because some guys seem to be into this doesn't mean Bobby and Lester are. They have made it really clear in what they've said to me that they need each other."

"They got each other," Lula agreed. "But the way they're acting means they want you, too."

I could easily picture it, partly because I'd spent so much time with them over the last few weeks, and because I trusted them in a way I tried not to dwell on. I rarely gave out unconditional trust because of how badly it could blow up at me. My divorce from Dickie definitely wasn't my finest hour, and I swore I'd never let myself be in a position to be made a fool of like that again.

"I think they just felt sorry for me," I informed her. "I don't believe they had romance in mind."

It was clear Lula didn't agree. "So which one of them do you want?"

"Neither," I quickly answered. "Well, both…" I clarified, only because I didn't think they should be split up. "But neither is a possibility," I said, finally getting to what I thought was the truth. Why was my mouth working so freely? What was in that cup I'd just chugged down? Did the Jack Daniels company put truth serum in their alcohol nowadays?

"And you know that because you asked 'em?" Lula pushed.

I let my head fall to the back of the vinyl sofa. "No, it's not that easy. I finally have a healthy relationship with a guy – with two guys – and I don't want to screw it up by pushing for something they don't want."

"Girl, they want it," Lula declared as though it were obvious. "They doing everything they can to prove it to you. I think they're waiting on you to make some kind of move so they don't scare you off."

"Why would they think I'd be scared?" I wondered.

That made Lula laugh. It took her a few minutes to pull herself together before she explained. "Girl, you got a heart as big as my boobs, but you as white as they come from a part of town that ain't exactly known for being open to something different."

I wanted to argue with that, but it was true on a whole bunch of levels. I didn't really want what the girls I'd grown up with did, but I didn't really want to be the black sheep of the 'Burg that was constantly gossiped about for doing strange things, either. "You think they're waiting on me to tell them what I want?"

"I think they're just trying to show you something and they're leaving the next move up to you," she explained.

I thought about it. Was this what I wanted? They were hot... I couldn't deny a physical attraction. I mean, a girl would have to be dead to not realize how good looking they were individually. Then, when you put them together, it just skyrocketed from there. They had proven how caring they could be, and I loved the evenings we'd spent together and the mornings when they would pop by to wake me up gently and start the day slowly over a cup of coffee. I could definitely get used to the way they listened to what was going on in my life, and then helped me to figure out the best approach to succeed, instead of telling me what I couldn't or shouldn't do. Plus, there was the whole thing between Bobby and my mother, which I had no idea what to think of, because I knew he'd stopped by to see her at least once without me there so they could cook together. She had yet to say one negative thing about me bringing them to dinner.

I decided this was above what I could figure out easily, so I needed a subject change. "You make a pretty good counselor," I said, grinning at her. "You're like Oprah."

"Girl, I ain't Oprah. She's got no sense of style with all those button up shirts, and long skirts. But you damn skippy about the talking bit. I've been volunteering at a career center near Stark to help women look for a life off the streets," she told me, toning her usually flamboyant delivery down when she spoke of working with other women who had led a life like hers.

I leaned forward and picked up a piece of chocolate, but I stayed closer to the desk to say, "Whoever gets a chance to talk to you is lucky. You're the bravest, smartest woman I know, and I'll bet you're making a huge difference in their life." Damn, my mouth was flying off again without me filtering what I was thinking. I agreed with what I said, but I didn't usually say shit like that, because it was too close to having a talk about feelings.

She paused for a minute, and her lack of a fast response told me my words had touched her. Fortunately, she didn't dwell on it and get all mushy, because that would have been more than we could handle without a bucket of chicken between us.

"Of course I'm making a difference. I'm a role model – and a damn good one."

I decided I needed to go before all of Connie's chocolate stash was gone. I really didn't want to explain my part in devouring her candy. When I stood up, I weaved a little and had to admit that cup of whisky might not have been a good idea.

"Girl, you all right?" Lula asked, recognizing that I wasn't really stable on my feet.

"I'm good," I lied. "I just need a little fresh air to clear my head before driving home."

"You sure that's a good idea?" she pushed, making me regret letting her in on the secret that I was such a lightweight when it came to booze.

"I'll be fine." I waved my hand, as though it was no big deal.

At that moment, the bell over the front door rang, and I spun around to see who had come in, but the momentum made the room spin and I ended up falling down onto the sofa. I shut my eyes when the world began to tilt, so I waited for the movement to stop before attempting to peek out of just one eye. I was met with a set of green eyes focused on me with great concern, and I knew I was busted.

A hand brushed my hair back from my face, and a concerned voice spoke. "Beautiful, are you okay?"

"I'm good," I repeated the line I'd tried to feed Lula.

The fact that his expression didn't change meant he wasn't buying it, either.

I let my eye close, realizing that holding one open made the other one feel funny; plus, it would be easier to confess if I didn't have to look directly at anybody. "Lula and I might have had a little something to drink, which seems to have impacted my balance. I just need to get a little fresh air, and then I can drive home."

I heard Lester's laugh, even though he was obviously trying to mute it. "Yeah, I think we may need to alter that plan just a little."

"Why?" I practically pouted. What in the hell was in that cup? I didn't pout! "I only had one shot."

I could feel Lester moving before he lifted my head and then slid his legs under my neck. Then there was the sound of glass being scooted over the desk and something going in the trash. "No, you only had one cup of booze, but based on the size of that cup, you had at least four or five shots, and that on top of your usual intolerance for liquor means you are drunk right now."

"But I feel fine," I argued, thinking that actually with my head on his muscular legs, I felt more than just fine. Then I realized it was getting considerably warmer in Vinnie's office and wondered why Lula had turned on the heat.

The back of my pillow was shaking, so I opened my eyes in time to see Les laughing. "How about I let Tank get the files from Lula and carry them back to RangeMan, and I'll drive you back to Haywood?"

"I can't work like this," I confessed, really feeling the effects of my drink all of a sudden. Then I attempted to whisper, but it might have come out a little loud despite my effort. "I think I might be slightly drunk."

Les touched my face and smiled. "I think you're right about that. So why don't I take you back to my place and put you to bed? You can sleep this off, and when you wake up, we can see about dinner. I'll bet we can talk Bobby into making it for us."

"Is he around?" I blurted out.

"I think so," Les replied, always answering my questions, no matter how ridiculous.

"Good, because he and I need to have a little chat," I responded.

Les helped me get up and slung an arm over my shoulder to help steer me to the door. "What do you need to chat with Bobby about?"

"Sugar," I answered him. "I definitely need more sugar. This moderation crap isn't cutting it anymore."

Les was full out laughing, but instead of it pissing me off like it usually did, I liked it, so I laughed, too. "Do me a favor and wait to argue your point on that until I get home, too, okay?"

"Okay," I happily agreed as he got me seated in the passenger seat of my car and put my seatbelt on.

We were at Haywood and he was helping me out of the car before I realized we'd even left Vinnie's parking lot.

"Come on, Sleeping Beauty," Lester said, pulling me up to stand beside him.

Bobby was at the door looking concerned when we arrived on four. "I've pulled the covers back on the bed," he announced, holding the door open for us to pass through.

"No," I disagreed. "I don't want to be alone in the bedroom."

"It's all right, baby," Bobby assured me with a kiss to my forehead. "I'll be in the kitchen, so you won't be alone in the apartment."

I loved it when he called me baby. I used to hate the name when other guys used it, because it felt like they were saying I was juvenile, but when Bobby said it, something warm happened low in my stomach.

"Can I be on the couch?" I asked, getting a smile from the shirtless man in front of me.

Why did Bobby insist on cooking half naked? I looked down, needing to stop staring at his sculpted chest, and then realized his pants were sitting low on his hips and his feet were bare. Holy shit, Bobby was a sexy man.

The deep laughter around me peaked my interest in what was so funny, but things were getting a little fuzzy, so I lifted my arm and pointed to the couch. I was gently laid down with a pillow under my head and a blanket tucked in around me, and then the guys went quietly into the kitchen. I took a deep breath and smelled the food Bobby was working on, the cologne each of the guys wore, and something else I couldn't really identify. But the mixture of the three things made me think of just one thing. It smelled like home.

With that thought, I sighed and just relaxed, feeling the peace that I always got when I was in this apartment. This was one place where I truly felt like I belonged.


	13. Worth Fighting For

_JE created the characters below. Her genius and her pocketbook deserve all the credit._

_Jenny (JenRar) thank you for the time you've spent pouring over each chapter as the beta on this story._

_Dina (aydinbydin) thank you for suggesting (repeatedly) that I write this story. I should point out that your version of subtle pressure is what I based Lester's approach on._

**Chapter 13 – Worth Fighting For**

_Lester's POV_

I was thrilled to see Steph's piece of shit car out in front of Vinnie's office. I knew she was heading here after the scene with Kolinsky was over, but having a legitimate excuse to check on her again was making it hard to keep my cool and walk in at Tank's pace.

The bell chimed to announce our presence, and Stephanie, who had been standing, turned to look at who was coming in, but she swayed and then collapsed on the horrible excuse for a couch. I was kneeling on the floor in front of her, brushing her hair away from her face, instantly.

I asked if she was okay and then doubly worried when she lied to me that she was fine. I may not be the world's smartest man, but I also wasn't a fool. Her breath carried the light sent of alcohol, the single eye she popped open to look at me was fully dilated, even in the bright room, and when she didn't seem to be able to keep even that eye open and tried feeding me another line about needing fresh air before she could drive home, I couldn't stop myself from laughing. I tried to cover it up, but the idea of her getting tipsy during the day was amusing.

God knows I'd tried to burry shit I'd seen with a bottle, but never having seen this side of her was too much fun to walk away from. Plus, there was no way in hell I was going to let her drive in this condition. I informed her that her plan might need to change. I knew I'd made the right call when she complained and pouted – like little girl having a temper tantrum kind of pouting – and then announced she'd only had a single shot.

I sat down on the couch, moved her head to rest it in my lap, and then looked at Lula to see if she'd clue me in about what had happened here. Lula picked up a bottle of Jack Daniels and a paper cup that probably held eight ounces. She put her finger on the outside to tell me how full it had been, and I guessed Stephanie had downed about two-thirds of a cup, which would be the equivalent of five shots. There were a lot of guys that would struggle with that much booze, and Steph had gotten herself fuzzy off of a margarita, so she was definitely flying high from that much straight whisky.

I tried to explain the amount she'd consumed plus her low tolerance meant she was drunk. She attempted again to disagree with me, but seemed to interrupt her own argument by mumbling about how her head in my lap was making her hot and then fussing at Lula for turning on the heat. Damn, this girl was good for an ego.

She eventually caved and admitted that she wasn't sober, only after confusing my offer to drive her to Haywood as a suggestion that she work. I had to give her credit; she was a fun drunk, which was always a nice change from the weepy, over-the-top emotional version that a lot of the guys turned into.

I got her to her feet and took most of her weight against me to guide her out to her car. She stopped moving for a moment to ask if Bobby was at RangeMan. Then she proceeded to say that she had something to talk to him about. She sounded as though she didn't want to talk so much as fuss at my partner, which for some reason, stuck me as hilarious, so I asked what she had in mind to discuss with him.

"Sugar," she answered me. "I definitely need more sugar. This moderation crap isn't cutting it anymore."

I couldn't help it. I burst out laughing, and surprisingly, instead of getting mad that I was laughing at her, she seemed to find it amusing instead and laughed along with me. I'd try to find a way to warn Bobby, but something told me the booze in her system was working a bit like truth serum. I wondered if it would be fair to ask why she needed more sugar. I knew better than to hope, but there was a big part of me that wanted to hear her say she was struggling to hold back around us.

I guess the fates decided it wouldn't be fair to allow me to take advantage of her in this state, because by the time I got in her car and started it with her keys, she was already asleep.

I made the trip as quickly as possible, afraid to push her car too much. Then I texted Bobby to let him know what was going on.

_Bringing Steph up; she's had too much to drink and needs a place to sleep it off._

He met us at the door, holding it open and informing me that he'd pulled back the covers on the bed so I could tuck her in.

"No," she disagreed, surprising us both that she was keeping up with the conversation. "I don't want to be alone in the bedroom."

"It's all right, Baby," Bobby assured her with a kiss to her forehead. "I'll be in the kitchen, so you won't be alone in the apartment."

She made a contended sound while he was talking, and I guessed that she liked the pet name from him. I knew he'd used it at the scene this afternoon and was glad that it didn't upset her. I'd called her Beautiful for years, but Baby was something new coming from Bobby. He was in full care-taker mode, so I was sure he didn't even realize he'd called her anything out of the ordinary.

"Can I be on the couch?" she pushed, making both of us smile. Then she seemed to focus on Bobby, and her eyes moved from his face down to the floor before she announced, "Why does Bobby insist on cooking half naked?" After a brief pause, she added, "Holy shit, Bobby is a sexy man."

That was it; neither one of us could keep from laughing at that point. Bobby tilted his head to the sofa, so I lifted her up and carried her over, laying her gently against the brushed suede, with her head on the pillow Bobby had moved down. Then I stepped back, and he covered her with a throw we'd had for years and never used. Suddenly, I was glad that Ella kept our apartments so well stocked.

We stood there just long enough to see her settling into the comfort of the couch and then moved as quietly as possible into the kitchen so that we wouldn't disturb her.

Bobby's hand was rubbing on the back of his neck – his stress position.

"She and Lula had a cup of Jack Daniels, and that much straight liquor got her good," I explained.

"I knew better than to let her go after the Kolinsky situation," he replied. "I knew she'd be upset and one of us needed to keep an eye on her, but I didn't want to push it and risk her pulling away." He looked over to the sleeping figure on the couch and then swore softly. "Damn it."

"Hey," I interrupted his rant and put my hand on the back of his neck, pushing his hand out of the way and pulling him to me. He allowed me to move him, but didn't look at me, so I shook him softly from side to side with my grip on the nape of his neck. "Hey, man, she wasn't there trying to drink her troubles away. She and Lula were having a good time talking, and a shot sounded like a good idea to take the fun up a notch. Steph just wasn't prepared for a shot to be poured in a big cup, and she guzzled it. It hit her hard, and I was there to bring her home."

He nodded, taking what I was saying and accepting it. Then his forehead wrinkled, and he asked, "Home?"

I shrugged, unwilling to admit I'd made a slip. "Sure as hell feels like it when she's here."

That got me a smile, so I decided to build on it. "Hey, as a warning, she said she wanted to have a talk with you."

He looked concerned, so I pressed on. "She seems to think she needs more sugar in her diet and the 'moderation crap' you're preaching ain't cutting it."

He laughed at that, and then his eyes twinkled and he said, "Sounds to me like our plan to get her to stop using sweets as a substitute for sex is working. That kind of frustration would definitely explain the need for drinks with the girls."

"So what happens when she wakes up?" I wondered. "She said she wanted tonight by herself and we'd get together for dinner tomorrow night."

Bobby didn't seem worried about it. "I'm cooking anyway, so I'll throw a little more in the pot and we'll invite her to stay. With any luck, the booze will keep her asleep until it's late enough that she won't feel the need to leave and we can all sleep together again."

I took a step closer when he said the last part. "You like having her with us in bed." It wasn't a question; the fact that he wanted her between us again tonight was clearly written on his face.

"Don't you?" he pushed back, reminding me that he was every bit as aggressive as I was and anytime I took the lead was only because he allowed it.

I looked over to the couch at her still form and nodded, not really wanting to admit it again. Shit, if this didn't work out the way we'd hoped, it was going to hurt in ways I wouldn't know how to handle.

I turned my gaze back to the man that had been by my side for years and lifted an eyebrow at him in invitation. Clearly, she was passed out and not going to resurface any time soon. Thinking about her in our bed again had gotten my blood flow working in a southern direction only, and that along with the possibility that she was still feeling horny from the lack of sugar all combined to make me need an outlet.

Bobby smirked in return, knowing exactly what I wanted. "You're still on duty," he pointed out, as though he were against the idea.

I would have backed off if I hadn't felt the hard proof of how much he wanted me too pressing against my crotch. I pushed my hips into his and listened with great satisfaction as he hissed, attempting to keep some grip of control over himself.

I was just about to jerk his head to kiss him when I felt my phone vibrating on my hip. I let out a long breath, trying to regain some control before switching hands so that I could keep one on Bobby's neck, holding him close, and use my right hand to grab the offending object still vibrating against my side. I glanced at the display and saw I had a text from Tank.

_Ready to roll. Got a scoop on a skip._

I turned it around so that Bobby could read it. I knew I could probably call Tank and say that with Steph in her condition, I couldn't leave her. Most likely, he'd have let me stay, but that would have been lying. Bobby was here and was much more qualified to take of her if she actually needed something other than sleep. I reluctantly let go of his neck and took a small step back to put some distance between us. I'd learned a long time ago that if we were touching, there was no controlling what burned between us.

"She'll be fine," he said aloud, trying to help me focus on leaving instead of hauling his fine ass back to the bedroom.

"I know it, but I'm not so sure I'll survive it," I countered.

Bobby looked down at my zipper, at the evidence of what I was referring to trying to bust through. "Oh, you'll survive it, and I'll make sure that you get the benefit of denying yourself this time, too." Then he took the step to close the distance between us once more. "You know it's much better if you wait a little, put off the release for a while," he teased me, using his deep, bedroom voice. "When I'm done, you might still be concerned about survival, but it won't be because of delayed gratification; it will be because I've worn your ass out."

Then he grabbed the part of my body he'd just referred to and thrust his hips against mine. I felt his teeth graze my neck, not bearing down enough to break through the skin, but there was the slight sting of scratching, just the same.

Then the fucker stepped away from me and started moving across the living room.

"Where the hell are you going?" I asked when he neared the bathroom door.

He spun around and grinned at me. "I'm going to get a little relief."

"So not cool, man," I argued, knowing I shouldn't keep Tank waiting any longer, which meant there was no way I could crank one off, too.

Bobby laughed and replied, "I'm doing this for you. If I'm not about to erupt tonight, then I can take my time with you."

That settled it; I was going to die tonight one way or the other. If Stephanie stayed with us, my balls just might explode from the building pressure if she pressed that sweet little ass against them like she had the last time she'd slept with us. And if she didn't spend the night, then Bobby was going to kill me himself.

I forced myself to leave the apartment, hoping that having the sensitive head of my dick rubbing the metal zipper of my pants as I went down the stairs would be enough pain to get the blood flowing back up north again.

Tank had his shades on, with his arms crossed as he stood beside the Navigator we were going to take out. He tilted his head down and looked over the top of his glasses. The guy might not say much, but he communicated plenty, and at the moment, he wanted to know how Stephanie was and why it had taken me so damn long to get down here.

"Just had to get Steph settled in with Bobby," I began explaining, knowing we'd work smoother if he had his answers up front. "He'll watch over her while the whisky goes through her system."

He nodded and moved to get in the driver's side. Apparently, that was all the explanation he'd needed.

I got in on the passenger side and took the folder he handed to me. When Tank didn't let go, I looked over and saw he'd taken the glasses off completely.

"Now," his deep voice said in a tone that was basically warning me not to fuck with him. "What the hell is going on with Stephanie?"

There were too many ways to answer that question, so I went with the most harmless and hoped that would do the trick. "After walking in on the dead skip this afternoon, she went to Vinnie's and had too much to drink with Lula. You know Steph can't hold her liquor."

He didn't let go of the folder, so I knew that wasn't what he'd meant.

I decided to try again, pretending that he wasn't attempting to put his nose in my business. I didn't like it when Ranger did it, and the idea of Tank attempting the same thing rubbed me the wrong way even more.

"She seemed to be under the delusion that she could take care of herself, which would have been a huge mistake. She's spent enough time with us to be comfortable, and she needs somebody to look after her for a little bit, so Bobby's doing it."

Still no dice. If anything, his grip on the manila colored paper tightened down. "Little Girl and you two," he clarified. "What are you playing at?"

"I'm not playing at anything," I told him straight up. "We just got tired of seeing her jerked around by the main men in her life."

"So you decided to do it instead?" he accused, hooking the edge of my temper that I was trying so hard to hold onto.

"I'm going to pretend you didn't just say that," I replied flatly.

"What are you two up to?" Tank pressed on, ignoring my comment.

"I don't remember owing you explanations about my personal life," I reminded him.

"This ain't your personal life; this is Stephanie's. I'm sick and tired of watching guys jerk her around," he said, reminding me of a morning about six months ago, when Tank was sparring with Ranger in the gym. For once, he appeared to have the upper hand over our boss, which made me wonder just what had pissed him off. Tank didn't usually get the best of Ranger unless he was furious. A pissed off Tank was a force of nature, and that morning, he'd been going after our leader with everything in him.

I'd pulled the tapes up from the beginning of their time later that day and listened as Tank had called him on his behavior toward Stephanie. He said he was tired of watching her confused and hurt after Ranger left, and he was basically telling him to either step up or cut her loose, but either way, Tank was promising to stay on Ranger until he did something. Ranger asked him why he cared, and Tank did the impossible by pinning our boss to the mats in three moves. I had to zoom in to see his lips and crank up the audio to even get close to figuring out the answer, but it sounded like Tank told Ranger that from the day he first told him to watch over Stephanie when he left town, he'd cared for that girl, and at the moment, he considered this fulfilling the standing order to make anyone who hurt her suffer. Ranger gave a small nod, barely perceivable, as his acceptance of what Tank was telling him.

I came back to the present and realized we were still both clinging to the folder and Tank was definitely waiting for a response from me. I took a deep breath and said, "Bobby and I have been spending extra time with her because we were worried about her. We felt like she'd been jerked around enough, and we wanted to be sure she had a chance to see what a great person she was. We aren't going to hurt her."

Tank's lips pressed together for a minute, and then he let go of the folder and said, "Then we have nothing else to discuss. She's been happier lately, and I guessed it was because of you two. I just had to be sure you weren't playing her and weren't planning on tossing her aside when it stopped being fun and hurt that little girl like all the other men have."

"We aren't tossing her anywhere," I quickly assured him. Then I added, "And if anybody is going to get hurt from this, I can promise you, it won't be her."

I wasn't comfortable saying anything else about it. Tank was a smart man, and I was sure he could figure out that I meant she had all the power to hurt us, but we damn sure weren't going to push her away.

Nothing else was said, as Tank faced the front, started the truck, and took us to Stark to round up a punk that had been cornering prostitutes and carving messages into their stomachs for fun. I realized this kind of pick up definitely didn't require a gentle touch, which suited me just fine. After the tense talk with Tank about Stephanie and the fact that my dick had been on a rollercoaster ride already today, I had all kinds of pent up frustrations that I needed to get out. Something told me that getting this piece of shit off the street was exactly what I needed.

An hour later, we were driving back to Haywood with a body receipt in hand. My knuckles had a scrape or two on them, but the bruises our skip was sporting made it totally worth it. After Tank kicked in his door, I had rushed in, grabbed his sorry ass by the back of his shirt, and taken his words of "What the hell?" as resisting so I could justify pummeling him. Tank had actually let me go for a few minutes, before pulling me off and tossing a bowl of water on the skip's face to bring him back around to haul him to the cop shop.

We got out of the Navigator at Haywood, and I came around the back to bump knuckles with him for a job well done. "Have Bobby check out your hand," he said, which was the RangeMan equivalent of saying you cared for somebody.

"No biggie," I assured him, flexing my fingers out of habit.

Then his expression shifted again, and I was on guard for what he was about to say. "So you and Bobby are _both_ spending time with her?"

Ah, so the questions about how two guys that had been happily banging each other could manage to include a girl without hurting her in the end were beginning.

I wanted to tell him it was none of his damn business, but I figured that might be a quick way to get myself on the receiving end of a pissed off Tank, so I said, "Yeah, both of us are. You've known us long enough to know that we're a package deal. It's not safe for anybody to split us up."

His big hand went over the top of bald head before he said, "So what are you planning on happening?"

That was the line I wasn't willing to cross – not even with a guy I trusted with my life and that had the ability to inflict some pretty serious damage in the gym. I lifted my hand, showing him the palm. "Right now, we're just spending time with her. When and if it becomes something else, that's really not something I'm willing to talk about."

He smiled at my answer, which was a bit of a surprise. Then he nodded, as though he'd liked that I'd shut him down. "Never thought I'd see the day when you'd refuse to brag about what happened behind closed doors. I'll keep my mouth shut, man," he assured me, before adding, "but my eyes are wide open."

Fair enough. He wasn't going to start talking about what we were doing, but he was going to watch to be sure Stephanie wasn't hurt in the process. Typical Tank – silently assessing, ready to step in when needed, but not rushing in where it wasn't necessary.

We bumped fists once more, and then I made my way up to four, glad to have my shift behind me for the day. With any luck, Stephanie would still be asleep; I could take a shower to get the remains of my day off, and then I could sit and hold her until Bobby was ready to eat.

I pushed the stairwell door open on the forth floor and smiled at the promise Bobby had made before I'd left, too. This had the makings of a great night, no matter how it turned out.

I opened the door as quietly as possible, not wanting to wake Stephanie, but voices from the kitchen let me know that she was already up. As I stepped in, I heard her say, "But don't you think it would ruin what you two have if someone else was suddenly in the middle of it?"

I knew I should have kept my mouth closed, but I couldn't hold back when it sounded so much like they were having a conversation that might set us up to have the future we had only dreamed about. I announced my presence by answering her question in what I hoped was the right way, considering I'd missed the beginning of their conversation. "That would totally depend on who it was."

Bobby smiled at me, letting me know I wasn't off base in my response, and Stephanie's head spun around, proving I'd entered as quietly as I'd wanted to. She shut her eyes briefly, making me wonder if the world was still spinning for her.

I walked into the kitchen and leaned against the counter next to the spot where Stephanie was sitting with her legs dangling in front of her. I kissed her hair on the side of her head and said, "I'm glad to see you up and about."

"I'm up," she agreed, "but I don't think I'm quite ready for the about part."

At least she'd sobered up enough to recognize it wasn't safe for her to drive. I swallowed back the thought of what might have happened if I hadn't arrived at the bonds office when I had.

I looked over at the stove and saw marinara sauce simmering while a pot of water was being brought up to a boil. I figured he was going to throw in some whole grain pasta and add a salad for the meal. I wasn't sure how heavy Italian food was going to sit on the beginning of a hangover, but I trusted that he was the medic and knew what he was doing.

I saw where he'd been chopping vegetables for the salads and reached over to grab some slices of cucumber to pop in my mouth. "So, what'd I miss?"

I didn't want to stop the conversation I'd obviously interrupted. If we were finally moving past the subtle hint phase into something more direct, I definitely wanted to get back to that.

Stephanie swallowed and looked almost a little green, which worried me even more about the dinner Bobby was planning. I glanced at my partner and saw him watching her, but I wasn't entirely sure what he was looking for.

Finally, he said, "Steph read an article about trinogomy today, and we were talking hypothetically about how a relationship could work with three people in it."

Thank God I'd had years of experience in controlling my reactions so that I could hold back from pumping my fist in the air and grinning like a damn fool. Now all we had to do was say the right things to let her know that was something we wanted, without scaring her off by fully disclosing how serious we were about her.

Oh hell. Why was I so excited about this opportunity? One false move, and she might take off running. Suddenly, I was hit with the thought that no combat experience had come close to emulating the amount of pressure this situation was going to put us under. Still, if ever there was something worth fighting for, it was definitely this woman.


	14. A Little More Pressure

_All the credit for the wonderful characters below belongs to JE._

_Jenny (JenRar) all the credit for any clarity of thought or writing belongs to you as the beta on this story._

_Dina (aydinbydin), I believe you get the credit for this story existing at all._

**Chapter 14 – A Little More Pressure**

_Bobby's POV_

Lester left to meet Tank, and I almost felt sorry for the guy, having to go back into the field sporting that massive hard on while I was about to get some relief. Then again, I hadn't been kidding when I told him it would be so much better for him if I wasn't about to come when I saw him the next time. I could keep him right on the edge for an hour before letting him finally come if I could keep my own control firmly in place. The last time I worked him like that, he'd passed out afterward and woken up with a grin the size of which I'd never seen before. It was that image that flashed through my head right before the wet warmth covered my hand. I sat there for a minute, willing my breathing to slow down, and smiled, realizing I'd changed my mind – I didn't feel sorry for Les after all. I was going to take good care of him tonight.

After cleaning up and ensuring no evidence remained of anything I'd just done, I decided to go back to the kitchen and begin working on dinner. Hopefully, that would keep me busy, and if Stephanie woke up, she'd hear me and know she wasn't alone.

I wasn't sure what she might want to eat. Usually when she tied one on, she wanted her "cure," which consisted of salty french fries and a large Coke over ice. I called Ella and asked if she had any Coke around. She said she kept some on hand for Stephanie, and when I confirmed that's exactly who I needed it for, she brought me two cans. She actually offered a six-pack, but I only took two cans to keep from having leftovers of the syrupy drink in the apartment. We kept popcorn around, and if I had to, I could cook some of that and put some extra salt on it.

Realizing I had a version of her cure ready if she needed it, I decided to just move forward with a normal dinner and invite her to join in if she wanted to. I figured it might make her self conscious to think that I'd modified what we were eating to make it hangover friendly, so with that thought in mind, I whipped up a pot of marinara sauce. I wasn't Italian, but I had learned a thing or two from my time in Mrs. Plum's kitchen, and I was eager to try out my new recipe.

I was just throwing in the last of the fresh basil when I heard Steph begin to stir. I moved to the edge of the kitchen and watched as she stretched her arms over her head and rolled over to her back.

"Welcome back to the land of the living," I said softly in case she had a headache.

She twisted her head so that she could see me and then gave me the sweetest smile. I didn't need anything else to make this one of my top ten moments ever. My apartment was filled with delicious smells, Lester would be home in an hour or so, totally ready for anything sexual I wanted to dish out, and now the woman I most wanted to be with was comfortable enough to rest while I was around and just looking at me made her smile.

"Would you like a Coke?" I asked, figuring it might be helpful to try and cut off her symptoms before they hit her hard.

Her smile doubled in size, and she slowly got up, waiting a minute after sitting before attempting to stand and move into the kitchen.

I wiped down the area where I'd been chopping and lifted her up to sit on the countertop before handing her two Tylenol caplets and a big glass of Coke over ice.

She made a slight face over the pills, but took them anyway.

I waited to give her a chance to drink half of her beverage before attempting to talk. "How do you feel?"

She seemed to consider the question for a moment. "I'm still a little off balance, and I do have a little bit of a headache, but I don't feel like I'm out of control, so that's a good thing."

I let her take another drink before pushing a little to ask, "Were you drinking to forget about today?"

"No," she responded quickly enough that I felt it was sincere without being defensive.

I waited for a minute, hoping she would tell me why she'd had so much to drink in the middle of the afternoon so that I didn't have to hound her just to satisfy my own curiosity.

"Lula and I were talking about something kind of out there and eating Connie's chocolate stash. Then she pulled out a bottle from Connie's other desk drawer and offered me a drink. At the time, it seemed to fit with the conversation, so I only had one cup, but it was a big cup and straight Jack Daniels, so I'm thinking it was a little more than I should have had," she explained, her face turning slightly pinker with nearly every word.

I brushed her hair away from her face so she would look up at me. Once I was sure I had her attention, I said, "There's nothing wrong with having a drink with a friend every so often, Steph."

"Yeah, but I usually make sure I have a ride home and somebody to watch over me when I'm going to get tanked. I didn't plan it, and I have a vague memory of telling Lester I just needed some fresh air and then I'd be good to drive myself back." She shivered, as though how close she came to doing something stupid had crossed her mind. I didn't think she needed me to tell her that driving would have been a huge mistake, so I kept my mouth shut.

"What kind of conversation were you two having that required chocolate and whisky?" I blurted out, hoping a change of topic would put her more at ease.

If anything, she looked more embarrassed than before.

"Lula's been researching things in Cosmo, and she was sharing some of it with me," she finally offered.

"Was it a quiz or a research article?" I asked, hoping she would share enough that we could find a way to laugh about whatever it was. Everything in Cosmo wasn't bullshit, but some of their sex articles were a bit on the farfetched side. I was hoping this would turn out to be one of those kinds of discussions.

"A research article," she replied, looking down and bringing one leg up to cross over her knee.

I decided she might talk a little more freely if I wasn't staring at her, so I picked up my spoon to stir the sauce and asked, "What was it researching?"

"Non-traditional relationships," she replied quickly.

I must have been on to something by keeping myself busy working instead of watching her, so I started pulling out ingredients to make a salad and figured I could chop as I talked.

"Any specific approach in particular?" I asked, washing a cucumber.

"The part she showed me was about threesomes," she spoke much softer to reply.

I had to wash the knife after dropping it at her response. "So it was about sex?"

"No, not that, but they used a word…trinogomy, I think. When three people are in a committed relationship with each other exclusively." While she spoke, I could feel my heart rate increasing.

My mind was spinning as I tried to come up with a decent response.

She let me off the hook for that by saying, "Do you think it's possible for three people to be together without there being jealousy between them?"

"Sure," I quickly replied. "I mean, if they're all honest and up front from the very beginning about what they're going to do, then there's no reason for jealousy. The commitment is to each other, so as long as they honor that, I would think some basic ground rules would make everything easy to manage."

"But how do you get to a point where you say, I think I like two people and I can't pick which one I like more, so I'm going to date them both – together?" she asked.

"Maybe that's not how it begins. Maybe there's already an established couple, and they know something is missing in what they have until they meet the one person that they think could complete them both, and that's how it gets started," I offered, basically laying out how Les and I felt.

"Maybe," she replied, before getting quiet for a while.

I continued washing lettuce and pulling it apart until she spoke once more.

"Hypothetically speaking," she began, letting me know this was about to get interesting. "You and Les as an example…"

"What about me and Les?" I asked after she got quiet for a little too long. I wanted to keep this conversation moving, so I couldn't let her get stuck in her head and chicken out.

"Well, you guys have been together for a long time. Have you ever wondered…" The sentence seemed to fade there. She was so close to asking the specific question I wanted to answer, but I didn't want to assume and give her too much information.

"Wondered what?" I kept her in the hot seat.

"Have you guys ever had a third person with you?" she blurted out, staring at her knees.

I began washing the tomatoes, careful not to look at her. "Early on, when Les and I were still figuring out what we were, we picked up a couple of people at bars for a one night stand. It wasn't really my thing, because I don't like sex without some kind of emotional involvement. And Les...he didn't like it the way he thought he would because he had to hide parts of himself and it ended up putting him more on edge. So we quit trying."

"But that's just sex. Have you ever thought about expanding your relationship to include someone else?" she pushed.

And there was the million dollar question. How did I answer this? Did I say, as a matter of fact we have and you are the lucky woman we want to devote ourselves to? Or did I go for something more subtle and risk her not understanding what I meant? Damn, I wish Lester were here, because he was much better at reading her to know how much to say. Finally, I realized I needed to buck up and say something.

"Early on, no," I told her honestly. "When Les and I first got together, we were too messed up to risk anybody else getting hurt by our demons. But being with him has definitely mellowed me, and I think I've had the same effect on him. So, now…yeah, now I think it could be possible." As I finished talking, I heard the sound of a key in the apartment lock and tried to hide my relief that Les was here to participate in this conversation.

"But don't you think it would ruin what you two have if someone else was suddenly in the middle of it?" she questioned.

I heard Les come around the corner before he responded, "That would totally depend on who it was."

I smiled at him, feeling like his answer walked the line of subtlety, but still gave her the opening to ask for more information if she really wanted to know.

They made small talk for a minute while I pretended to work on the sauce and start the water for the pasta. I waited, because I knew Les would get the conversation back on track, and he didn't disappoint.

"So, what'd I miss?"

I looked over at Stephanie to see if she would fill him in, but it almost looked as though the idea of beginning the conversation over again was making her ill, so I decided to try letting her off the hook. "Steph read an article about trinogomy today, and we were talking hypothetically about how a relationship could work with three people in it."

I looked over at Les and thought he was beginning to look nervous. I didn't fully understand that, since this was the exact opening we'd been hoping for. It took about ten seconds for him to decide whatever he'd been considering, because I saw him roll his shoulders and relax against the counter next to Stephanie once more.

"So what kind of hypothetical were you looking at?" he asked, trying to jumpstart the conversation once more.

I looked back at Steph, trying to let her know that the ball was now squarely in her court.

It took her several attempts of opening her mouth before she ever got any words out, but she did eventually ask, "Taking sex out of it, how can three people be in a relationship? Sometimes, it's hard enough to get along with one person, and having two partners would just make it twice as hard, right?"

"It would if they were the wrong people. I think when you've got the right partners, getting along isn't the issue," Lester replied.

"Then what is the issue?" she asked, turning the tables on him.

"Some of it would depend on how the triangle came to be. I mean, hypothetically"—he looked at Steph for a minute, as if trying to impress upon her that last word—"Bobby and I have been together for a while, and I don't make any bones about the fact that I love him and I have to have him in my life. Aside from the trust we've got, I need to know there is that person out there that understands my past and knows what to do when I get wound up. I can depend on him to take care of me if I miss the warning signs that I'm too stressed, and I know that in order to function with any kind of effectiveness, I have to have him by my side."

We didn't talk about our relationship much – the need never came up, and we were more action than talk kind of people – but for a conversation we'd never really had, he'd summed up what we were to each other really well.

"But the way we keep each other grounded," Les continued, getting our attention once more, "is by getting aggressive with each other. It's muscle against muscle, hot head against a hotter head. It's necessary, so I wouldn't ever want to change it, but occasionally, we've talked about how it would be nice to have someone around that we could be gentle with, somebody that would soften our lives."

"Why can't you be soft with each other?" she wondered, always curious when faced with something new.

I figured I could answer this one, having thought about it myself. "Sometimes, we are, but it's not as common as us coming together hard and demanding. We're not exactly what I'd call old dogs, but to totally shift how we relate to each other would be hard without something to ease us into it. If we were both gently interacting with a third person, I think some of that might begin to wear off onto how we treated each other as well."

"So this would just be a temporary thing?" she asked, sounding hurt. "I mean, you'd get another person and romance them until you learned how to relate to each other better and then get rid of the extra baggage?"

"Hell no," Lester emphatically announced. "Flirting is one thing, but if we bring somebody into our lives and open up all our shit to them then they aren't getting pushed anywhere. We're a lot of things, but you know us well enough to know that we don't use people."

Steph looked down, obviously ashamed of having thought of us so poorly.

"Hey." I lifted her face so that she would look at us. "You do know us well enough to know that, right?"

"Yeah, I wasn't thinking about it like that," she confessed. "History has taught me that when things are going really well, something horrible is going to happen."

Didn't that just break a guy's heart? This woman, who did so much good for everyone around her, had never experienced that same thing for herself.

"So, hypothetically, if you were in a relationship with two guys, you would always be afraid that eventually they'd push you out?"

"Yeah," she agreed, "Or that they'd decide I was more trouble than I was worth, or that I complicated things too much and they were better off when it was just the two of them."

Les had apparently had enough of the negatives and spun around to hold her face between his palms. "Nobody could possibly be better off without you. You aren't trouble. Life provides that on its own; it's not something that you do. But you'll know you're with the right people when they tell you that the good stuff you bring to them is so great that they don't even consider the hard parts a problem. You are an amazing woman, and anybody that had you in their life and chose to let you go is a bloody fool."

"I don't think I've ever been with somebody that felt that way," she spoke after processing what Les was telling her.

I moved to stand beside Les and put my hand over his on one side of her face. "We do," I assured her, watching as her forehead wrinkled, as though she were attempting to work out a complicated math problem in her head.

"I think…" she started to say, but stopped herself and looked at each of us in turn.

She unfolded her legs that had somehow gotten bent up onto the counter top and began to look like an animal looking for an escape. I wondered if this was about to hurt. If she was going to tell us that, while we were fun to hang out with, there was really nothing about being in a relationship like ours that fit with who she was.

She looked down suddenly, and we pulled our hands away instinctively, knowing she needed a little room. "I think…I need to go home. The booze is gone, but I'm exhausted from…everything, and I need a little time by myself."

"You want me to drive you back?" Les offered.

I thought it was a great idea so he could reassure her that despite our seemingly eager stance in the kitchen, we'd never push her into something she didn't want, and if she only wanted us in her life as friends, we would gladly comply, because we needed to be around her in any capacity.

Her curls moved about as she shook her head no. "My car's in the garage, and I can drive safely now."

We both knew she was right, so arguing with her just to extend the time together would only backfire on us. I stepped back and looked at the stove, realizing the pasta was done and ready to be drained.

"You want to take some dinner home with you?" I offered.

She shook her head no, but stopped herself and leaned over to look at the pots cooking on the stove. "No salad," she bargained.

I immediately found a container suitable for transporting a serving of linguini with marinara. Thank goodness Ella kept this apartment stocked. Tossable containers wasn't something that ever crossed my radar as a must have kitchen item.

She pulled her boots on and laced them up while I got her dinner together and put it in a bag. I met her at the door and held out the small container, hoping her history with her mother would allow her to understand this gift was more than just dinner. She obviously wasn't ready to hear us say anything more specific about what we felt for her, but I could provide food for her that I'd made, and hopefully she'd get the message that way.

Her eyes went to the bag as she took it from my hand and lingered there for a moment, giving me hope that the meaning of this gesture wasn't lost on her.

"Thanks for taking care of me today," she lifted her head to say.

"Anytime, Beautiful, but next time, before you start drinking with Lula, give us a call, and we'll be on standby to get you safely home."

"I'm thinking there won't be a next time," she announced, beginning to smile a little, to my great relief. "I don't like the idea of getting drunk at Vinnie's."

That thought made her shiver, and knowing what went on in his back office made me share that momentary cringe.

"Plus, I'm pretty sure we had enough of Connie's booze that she's going to lock it up so we don't do that again."

"Are we still on for dinner tomorrow night?" I asked, needing to get a commitment from her that she wasn't going to run and hide from us indefinitely.

Her eyes narrowed, and she asked, "What's on the menu?"

Relief flooded my system that she was joking with me. Hopefully, that meant we hadn't scared her off completely. "Tell me what you want, and you'll have it."

"Anything?" she pressed, grinning.

I knew I was going to regret it, but I had given her the opportunity, so I just went with it. "Anything."

"Hmmm..." She pretended to give it some thought. "Can I text you a menu later after thinking it through? I want to be sure I take advantage of having my own personal chef for the night."

I was definitely wrong; there was nothing to regret here. Empty calories and high fat content would totally be worth being called her own personal anything for the night.

"Send me a message whenever you get it worked out, and we'll see you tomorrow."

We leaned in and kissed her cheeks in a gesture we'd done dozens of times over the last month. As we pulled back, she spun around and walked out.

There was a moment or two where we both stood there, staring at the door and not moving.

"Did we just move from the subtle phase to the more direct pressure part?" Les broke the silence to ask.

"I think so," I replied, before adding, "You don't think we moved from the more direct pressure part straight into the scaring the shit out of her, do you?"

He seemed to consider it for a minute before responding. "I don't think so. She took food, and she promised us dinner with her tomorrow, so I think she just needs a little time to figure out exactly what just happened."

"I think I could use the same thing," I confessed. "What the hell just happened?"

"I think our girl just got her eyes opened, and now the ball is totally in her court," he answered, sounding more comfortable with every word.

"Does she like playing ball?" I blurted out.

Les cracked up at my question, so I slugged him in the arm to bring him back to reality. "Maybe not in a traditional sport, but I have a feeling, if she'd let herself go and not worry about what anybody was thinking, she could be great at playing with multiple balls."

The last few words were punctuated with his trademark eyebrow wag, so I slugged him again for good measure.

He frowned and rubbed the spot I'd attacked, "Man, what the hell was that for?"

"I think when you left, I promised I'd be the one to take care of you," I responded, watching his eyes go from playful to heated instantly.

"You did, but I don't think I get the connection between that and you smacking me around," he challenged while toeing off his boots.

"I wasn't smacking you around," I corrected him, staring at his belt until he got the point and started unbuckling it. "I was just showing you who was going to be in charge tonight."

"You feeling the boss vibe?" he teased.

"I'm feeling the vibe that says we'll do this my way or you're welcome to use your hand tonight," I returned, holding back my pleased reaction when his eyes jerked back to me, surprised at my forthrightness.

It took a moment, but he finally said, "Lead on."

There was nothing submissive about Lester, but on rare occasions, he would play along and give up all the control to me. He'd learned a long time ago that when I took over, it was all about pleasing him, so he knew it might drive him crazy, but in the end, it would be totally worth it. I couldn't wait until the time came when I might have the opportunity to try the same thing with Stephanie. I was pretty sure I could please her until she was too exhausted to handle any more.

But right now, she wasn't here, and in front of me was a man whose body I knew as well as my own. I figured the same goal would play out just as well for him.


	15. No Price

_JE created all the characters below._

_Jenny (JenRar) thank you for being the world's greatest beta ever._

_Dina (aydinbydin) thank you for not letting me toss this idea, even when I worried that people might find the story a little too far out there to read along._

**Chapter 15 – No Price**

_Stephanie's POV_

I knew I couldn't drive fast. I felt fine now, just a slight nagging headache, but I couldn't afford to draw any attention to myself in my multi-colored green Fiat and have a cop pull me over, getting a whiff of my Jack Daniels foray. Of course, knowing I couldn't push my car faster only made me itch to do it all the more. I needed to get away from Haywood as fast as possible and to a place where I was alone and not surrounded by hot guys saying things I didn't understand.

What had Lester meant when he said when they let somebody in their life and opened up to them that they would never get pushed out? Why had he said anybody that had me in their life and then let me go was a fool? And why had Bobby sent me home with dinner? Was it just the medic in him taking care of me, or was it more than that? When he handed me the bag, it had certainly seemed like he was saying more than just 'here's some leftovers.' Why were guys so damn complicated?

By the time I got settled in my apartment, I'd smelled the marinara as long as I could, so I popped the top, stuck it in the microwave, and happily dug into a home cooked meal. The pasta tasted slightly different; it was a little on the tan side, making me think he was trying to sneak in something extra healthy, but the sauce was exactly the same as my mother's. It was delicious.

I shut my eyes between bites and wondered how this day had gotten so screwed up: dead guy, drunk at Vinnie's, sex talk with Lula where she'd actually made points I couldn't disagree with, and a talk with my boys where I wasn't entirely certain they were speaking in code. Of course, I wasn't entirely sure they weren't speaking in code, either, which only complicated things further.

My mind was moving in circles, getting me nowhere fast, so I decided a little more information might be helpful. I found my phone and pulled up Lula's number.

"White Girl, what's going on?" she answered, obviously checking her caller ID before picking up.

I recounted the conversation with the guys as best I could remember it, and when I was done, she made a knowing noise in the back of her throat. "What does that mean?"

"It means, I was right; they both want you," she calmly explained. "Why you calling me when two hot men want you?"

"But I don't _know_ that they want me," I whined back.

"Do you want them?" she turned the question back around to me. "'Cause you seem to be thinking about it awfully hard."

She had me there. I was dwelling on this, which would make it impossible to go back and say I didn't care one way of the other. According to my actions, I was interested, and the more I dwelt on it, the more I thought it wasn't just my obsessing about it now that made that point. "I think I do, but what if they don't really feel that way about me? It's so great to have guy friends, and I don't want to screw it up."

"But what if it could be more than that? You wouldn't be screwing it up; you'd be making it better," she pointed out, proving what a great counselor she had to be at the career center.

"They said hypothetically. They didn't say anything definite about wanting me as anything more than a friend," I pointed out.

"But they did tell you they thought something was missing. Why would they say something like that if they didn't think you could do something about it?" she countered.

"You're really good at this," I told her without thinking.

"Damn skippy," she replied, making me laugh.

We got off the subject of the guys and talked about nothing in particular until my phone beeped that the battery was almost dead, forcing me to let her go before it disconnected.

I pulled up the text message program, recalled Bobby's number, and then typed in _Something with cheese – the real kind, no low fat stuff. Other than that, surprise me. Love, __Stephanie_

I hit send and then got up to search out my charger. Picking up my house phone, I made my way back to the living room before shoring up enough courage to dial a number I knew by heart.

"Yo," came the sexy voice I knew so well.

"Yo yourself," I replied, trying to play it cool.

"Babe," he spoke in a slightly lower voice that I was convinced he only did with me. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," I assured him. "I just had a lot on my mind and realized I hadn't talked to you in a while."

"I'll be there in two minutes," he said, before a soft click alerted me to the fact that he'd hung up on me.

I'd hardly had time to get pissed off over him just assuming I wanted company and then disconnecting before giving me a chance to tell him one way or the other when a knock announced he'd definitely made it to my apartment in less time than he'd said.

I opened the door and said, "What, were you in the parking lot when I called?"

The fact that he didn't respond right away told me I'd hit the nail on the head. "You were!" I grinned, feeling like I finally had something I could pick on Batman over. "You know, some people call that stalking," I pointed out as I stepped to the side so that he could enter.

"Babe," he said as he passed by, which I assumed meant he didn't define it that way. "I was just checking on a friend who I'd heard had a rough day."

I shrugged, not really wanting to think about the dead guy surrounded by his dick collection. "Better than some, stranger than others," I summed up.

He smiled at my response, which made me feel as though I'd done something monumental. "So what were you thinking about when you called?" he asked, pulling me over to the sofa.

"Men are so complicated," I said cryptically.

"You called me," he replied, pretending to be defensive. At least, I thought he was playing, as I could never really picture Ranger being defensive.

"Is there a man in particular you're referring to?" he said after I didn't reply. "Or men, as the case may be."

My head jerked up so that I could look him in the eye. I knew he was Batman, but I didn't realize his super powers included reading minds. Oh hell, this could get embarrassing if I couldn't even filter my thoughts from him. "Why do you ask that?"

Ranger turned so that he was facing me and explained, "You've spent time with Bobby and Lester every single day for over a month. And as much as I want to find fault with it, you're eating better, you're learning some skills, making you better at your job, you're checking in with people, which is making you safer, and you seem to be happier than you've been since I met you."

I leaned my head into the cushion and let out a long breath, trying to use some of the air to blow a curl away from my face. Ranger leaned over, wrapped the errant curl around his finger, and then moved it behind my ear. It stayed put when he did it, as though even my wild ass hair knew better than to disobey his will.

"What's going on?" he pushed. His voice was steady and serious, and I knew he wasn't going to drop this until I gave him some details.

"Do you think it's possible for three people to be in a relationship without it blowing up in their faces?" I blurted out. He'd asked for it, so it would be his own fault if he didn't like the question.

He was quiet for too long, which forced me to open an eye and peek at him. Once he had my attention he spoke. "I think it's possible, but perhaps not easy."

"What's the difference? If something's too hard, then what's the point?" I questioned.

"Sometimes, it's the things that are hard that are the most worth doing," he pointed out, somehow transforming himself from Batman to Buddha, only without the sheet wrap and the round belly.

"What do I do?" I growled out, wishing somebody had a crystal ball that would tell me how everything would work out.

"What do you want?" he turned the question back to me.

"If I knew that, I wouldn't be struggling right now," I bit out, feeling bad right away for snapping at him when he was only trying to help.

He raised an eyebrow at me and just looked at me until I let out a breath and finally admitted, "Okay, I do know what I want; I just don't know if it makes sense or if I can have it."

His face smoothed out at that response, and he nodded. "All right, then one step at the time, Babe. What do you want?"

"I think I want to see what would happen if the time I spent with Lester and Bobby wasn't just as the third wheel friend, but an equal part of what they have."

"And why do you want that?" he asked, not pushing or sticking his nose in where it didn't belong, but just helping me to sort it out.

"Because I love spending time with them," I answered honestly. "They're the first people to figure out that balance of taking care of me without it feeling like they were attempting to take over. And when they touch me…"

"Careful, Babe," Ranger interrupted. "I don't need details about that."

I was sure my face began to erupt in flames, but I couldn't let him get away with that big of a misunderstanding. "No! Not like that. They just…well, it's all very innocent, really. They touch my face, and Lester plays with my hair while Bobby massages my feet. And they hug me – I love their hugs."

"I hug you," he pointed out flatly.

"And I love those, too, but it feels different when they do it," I replied, hoping I wouldn't regret opening this can of worms. "When you hug me, it either feels like a safe place to hide, or a hot place where I want to throw you down on the ground and forget about the witnesses."

I peeked after saying that and saw a smug look of satisfaction on his face. Deciding he needed a little dish of humble pie, I kept talking. "When they hug me, it either feels like a safe place to be, a hot place I want to get lost in, or..." I couldn't figure out how to describe the last part, but I felt like it was the most important part. It was the single element that had been missing from touches for my whole life, and it was what kept me wishing they would pull me to them every time we got together.

"Or what?" Ranger prompted when I'd paused long enough, he probably thought I'd gotten distracted in my head. "What does it feel like?"

Without thinking, I said, "Home – it feels like I'm in a place that was made especially for me, and everything else just fades away into the background."

When I looked at my mentor, he smiled at me. "That's a pretty big deal. Don't you think you owe it to yourself to see what it's like to have that anytime you want it?"

"But dating two guys is kind of – different. I get screeching phone calls from my mother just because I show up at the grocery store with the knee on my jeans torn. If I showed up at the grocery store hanging on two guys, I'm pretty sure she'd lose consciousness," I explained.

"Are you really the _hang on people_ type?" Ranger challenged. "I know you haven't been with the right guy yet, but I still don't see you as being overly clingy in public."

"No..." He was right. I'd always hated when people felt the need to flaunt their supposed happiness by have virtual sex in the store in front of me. "But nothing about my life is private. At some point, people would figure it out, and then what would they say about me?"

"Do you care?" he asked, playing devil's advocate once more.

Did I? That was a good question. "I'd like to say no, because I've never let what people might think stop me from doing what I want, but down deep, I wish people would just accept the decisions I've made and leave me alone."

"That's human, Babe," Ranger assured me, placing his hand gently on my shoulder and squeezing. "But you have to decide if you'd rather have a chance at something that's exactly what you need, or if you'd rather deny yourself the happiness so you don't have to worry about what some busybodies might say."

I pinched my eyes closed, beginning to feel my headache growing. "But what if they don't want anything more than me as their friend? I could end up screwing up what I have, and then I'd be alone."

Ranger gave me a dry chuckle and said, "You'll never be alone, Babe. The line of people who want to spend time with you is too long." He turned his head away from me and squinted toward the coffee table, where a small portion of pasta and marinara was cooling. It seemed as though whatever answer he was searching for was found on the plate, because he looked back to me and said, "But I think you're worrying over something that's a moot point with those two."

"What do you know?" I demanded. If they'd said something to him and he could eliminate the doubt I had about my boys' intentions, then figuring this out might be much easier.

"It's not my place to tell you, but I can say that I've been watching all three of you. At first, it pissed me off, because I was afraid they were just playing with you, and in the end, they'd move on and you'd get hurt. But the longer I watched them, the more I could see it. Those two have something I can't explain, but whatever it is, they have to have it to keep functioning. I wish I could say they were together just because they were gay or bi-sexual and attracted to each other, but it's a lot bigger than that. In truth, the damage that's been done to them by the things they've seen and done is big enough that they probably feel like just half a man, and when they're together, they plug the holes enough to make one solid guy."

"So you're saying even though there are two bodies, it's only one man?" I was totally confused.

"I'm saying that relationships involving three people often fail because of jealousy and an inability to work out the day to day details of how you divide your time so that you have some for yourself, for each of your partners, and as a group, but with them, that wouldn't be an issue. They see themselves as one functioning unit, so jealousy isn't a part of it," he tried to explain.

"So you're saying it would be easy to have something with them," I tried to summarize, getting a grimace from Ranger in return.

"No," he interrupted. "I'm saying the typical problems wouldn't apply here. Instead, there would be a totally different kind of problem because of all they've seen and done. My past is why I don't let myself have a future with a relationship in it. My way of dealing with it probably isn't the best way, but it's what works for me. Those two have demons in their heads, too, and you need to be prepared for the fact that being with them wouldn't always be easy. Something may happen unexpectedly and set them back in their heads to a place so horrific, you can't begin to imagine. Flashbacks sometimes happen when we sleep, or when we pick up skips – hell, even a waiter dropping a tray in the kitchen can set it off. Sometimes, it's just a memory that pops up and darkens our mood, but sometimes, it much more than that."

"You mean, like the dreams they have – the nightmares," I guessed.

"Yeah," he agreed, looking slightly surprised I knew about that. "They aren't pretty. The mind is our most powerful weapon, and when it turns on us, it does shit we can't combat."

I nodded, remembering Bobby flailing against Lester on my sofa the first time they stayed in my apartment. I remembered how panicked they were that I would risk getting close to him when he was in the middle of a nightmare, but how easily he'd calmed down when I gently touched him. I'd treated him softly, and he'd responded. "Maybe something soft in their lives would help," I murmured, not sure he'd understand the response.

"I'd think so," Ranger agreed. "They're strong enough to fight it away, but something softer would keep them from being so exhausted from constantly battling their past."

"Do you battle yours?" I asked, looking at the man in front of me who always seemed so together.

He let his eyes lock with mine for a few moments, before saying, "Not in the same way they do. For better or worse, it seems I'm more suited to the jobs the government gave me to do." Then he lifted his hand from my shoulder and brushed my check softly. "But there are days when I wonder if the cost I've paid was higher than I imagined it would be."

"What can I do to help?" I asked, not even taking the time to consider the question. I just knew that Ranger seemed to be hurting, and if there was anything I could do to ease him, then I simply had to do it.

A half smile came over his face. "No matter what happens with those two jokers, don't forget about me."

I laughed at his statement. "It's not possible to forget about you," I informed him.

"That's all I need," he replied, his tone a little lighter. "Just to know you're still around when I need to see you."

"Want some dinner?" I blurted out, feeling the need to change the subject before I got emotional.

He glanced over at my plate and then back to me, so I explained, "Bobby made the sauce. It tastes exactly like my mother's, but there's something funny about the noodles."

Ranger smiled and said, "They're whole grain – better for you."

I groaned. "I swear Bobby's trying to kill me. He's giving me slightly healthier versions of everything, and I can't exactly fuss at him for it, because I don't usually taste the difference, but the lack of sugar is about to kill me."

Ranger coughed, as though he hadn't expected me to say that last part. "You're off sugar?"

"Well, I had been," I corrected my first statement. "But Lula and I broke into Connie's chocolate stash this afternoon and then had some whisky to wash it down, so it's under control a little more right now."

"Do Bobby and Lester know what it does when you have no sugar?" he asked.

"I told them, but I don't think they really get how extreme it is for me," I confessed. "Maybe I should have Joe give them a head's up," I joked.

Ranger laughed at that image. "I think that would be a bad idea. The last thing you want is the cop talking to those two about you in bed."

"I thought you said there wouldn't be any jealousy issues with Lester and Bobby," I reminded him.

"I said there wouldn't be any issues between them being jealous over the time they were each spending with you, but between them and the rest of the male population, there might be issues," he clarified.

"What kind of issues?" I wondered. If I was going to seriously consider this, I needed to be sure I fully understood what I was getting into.

"Imagine you'd gone ten years without any chocolate, and then a box of the best gourmet candy was basically dropped into your lap," he started, pulling a relevant comparison out of thin air. "Then imagine how you'd feel if people stopped while you were looking at your box of chocolates and watched you. Just looking at your candy would probably be enough to make you tell them to back off, but if you thought they were even considering trying to sample a small piece for themselves, imagine how you'd react."

I could picture that scenario perfectly. "This might cause a problem at the office..." I figured I should warn the boss.

He smiled. "I'm pretty sure they could keep it together around RangeMan, because they know and trust those guys, but the average man on the street might need to think twice before trying to make a pass at you."

"I've gone dancing with them, and we didn't have any trouble at the club," I pointed out.

"Did they let anybody other than them dance with you?"

He'd made a good point, so I shook my head no; they'd basically shot daggers from their eyes at anybody that even looked my way.

"And I'm guessing one or the other of them was touching you for most of the time you were there, right?"

"How did you know that?" I couldn't stop myself from asking.

"There's a reason guys are called dogs, Babe," he replied with another of his stellar smiles. "It might be slightly offensive, but there is no denying the need to mark your territory, and as long as they had a hand on you, they knew nobody else was going to come sniffing around what belonged to them."

"I don't belong to anyone," I pointed out.

Ranger raised an eyebrow at my objection, and I could feel myself backing down. "Maybe not in your mind, but I have a feeling they have a totally different take on that."

Before I could ask him what that meant, he stood up, leaned down, and kissed my forehead, lingering a little longer than he usually did.

"Thanks for coming over, Ranger," I told him, feeling like it was totally inadequate for how helpful this conversation had been, but still figuring I needed to at least try and let him know how much I appreciated it.

"No price, ever," he repeated a phrase I'd heard countless times. "And no matter what happens with those two clowns, that never changes. You need me, you call, and I'll be there – simple as that."

I took a deep breath, feeling the truth of his words flow over me. There was no denying that he meant it, and experience had taught me I could depend on it.

He left so quietly, I wouldn't have noticed he was gone if I hadn't felt the tingle at the base of my neck fade away.

I guess after that conversation, I finally knew what I wanted. The only question left to answer was whether or not I was brave enough to go after it.


	16. The Art of a Good Question And Salad

_The credit, the royalties and the true accolades all belong to JE. The fun, however, is all mine!_

_Jenny (JenRar) thank you for your tireless work as the beta on this story. _

_Dina (aydinbydin) thank you for your excitement over this story and for prompting me when I was stuck and didn't know how to proceed._

**Chapter 16 – The Art of a Good Question (And Salad)**

_Lester's POV_

"Santos! Brown!" came the unmistakable commanding voice of our boss. "Stand down before somebody gets hurt!"

He didn't sound pleased, so I straightened from my fighting stance to turn and look at him. A quick glance at the clock showed Bobby and I had been sparring for over forty minutes. Not as long as we had gone on a few occasions, but longer than most people spent without a break.

"You want to tell me what in the hell is going on here, or do I need to get in that ring and settle who's the bigger bad ass?" he threatened.

I might enjoy a good opponent, but I was in no state to handle a pissed off Ranger. He'd hand me my ass in five minutes or less.

Strangely, the silence he received as a response only caused him to talk more. Typically, that man could wait for an eternity for the person he was questioning to break.

"Somebody better start talking, or I'm going to assume something is being hidden from me, and I'll consider it imperative that I get to the bottom of this one way or the other." As he spoke, he climbed into the ring, showing he wasn't afraid to make good on his promise.

Bobby leaned into the corner of the ring, using the ropes to support the dead weight of his arms. He was covered in a sheen of sweat, and since we were both down to just our gym shorts, there was plenty of his dark skin on display. If I weren't so damn exhausted, I might be willing to bullshit Ranger just to get rid of him so that I could get Bobby back to the apartment. As it was, I almost felt too tired, so talking to Ranger seemed like the easier thing to do.

"Just getting some stress out," I told him, while using years of practice to slow my breathing down.

"You're telling me nothing," Ranger bit out, turning his gaze to Bobby, probably figuring I wasn't going to give him anything.

Bobby shook his head no, and for a brief moment, I worried that he was saying he wasn't going to disclose anything. As much as I might admire that, I worried that Ranger might not feel the same way.

Before I could come up with something else to add that might save my partner from my cousin's rage, I heard Ranger speak up again.

"I had a long visit with Stephanie yesterday, and I came down here expecting to see the two of you in a good mood, based on where her mind was. But now that I see you two trying to knock each other's heads off, I'm wondering if you guys aren't in the same place." He stopped for a moment and then clarified what he meant. "And if you're not in the same place, then the advice I gave her is probably going to mean she's about to get her heart broken…again. If that happens, what you were doing to each other is nothing compared to what I'm going to do to you."

"What?" I blurted out, not sure if I was understanding him correctly.

Ranger ran his hand over his lips, as though holding them shut to keep from talking. "Damn it, this is why I don't get involved in people's personal shit. I can't even keep my own life together, so why the hell I would think I was capable of helping somebody else with theirs is beyond me."

Bobby seemed to find his voice before me and explained, "Steph was at our apartment yesterday afternoon, asking questions about how three people could be in a relationship. We were excited, because we thought it showed that she might be coming around to the possibility of a relationship with us. We tried to let her know it's what we wanted without being too forward so that we wouldn't scare her off. Then she just shut down and got the hell out of the apartment. At first, we thought it was all right, because she was joking at the very end, but the more we thought about it, the more we worried we might be just seeing what we wanted to see. By this morning, we were convinced that she ran – which means she'll keep running and we obviously blew the best thing that could have happened to us by being too eager."

"So you thought you'd make it right by pounding each other's heads in?" Ranger questioned. "Did you take so many to the head that you forgot how to pull punches?"

I looked down at my hand and saw that my knuckles were scraped and bleeding. Moving my hand to the side of my face, where there was a dull ache, I felt the cut near my eye from a solid blow Bobby had given me when Ranger came into the gym. The effects from this battle were going to linger for a few days.

I caught Bobby's eyes with mine and could see him grimace when I pulled my fingers away from the cut near my eye. The regret was clear in his expression, and I was sorry for having caused him to second guess himself. The fact that there was blood running down his own face from his lip wasn't lost on me, though, so I totally understood where he was coming from.

Ranger looked between us for a moment. "She was confused last night," he offered in a rare instance of volunteering information. "She seems to think that you two might not want her as anything other than a friend, and she's scared shitless about losing whatever you three have now to find out about the possibility of what could be. I tried to be subtle about letting her know she didn't need to worry about that, but subtle ain't always my specialty – especially when it comes to relationship advice."

I had to smile at that. The guy had everything a woman would want: money, good looks, promising future, and position in the community. But he had no interest in sharing it with anybody in a committed fashion. Stephanie came closer than anyone, but he'd found some way of keeping even her from getting any closer.

"What do we do?" Bobby asked, clearly desperate for some advice of how to handle this woman that was driving us crazy. Ranger might not consider himself a relationship guru, but he still knew her better and had known her longer than anyone here.

Ranger shook his head. "Just because I'm not kicking your ass for bringing her into whatever you two have doesn't mean I'm going to help you any more than I already have. If you want her, figure it out. But I'd think that you need to make something clear to her tonight at dinner, or she's just going to start second guessing herself again. I've never understood why her self image is the way it is, but she'll convince herself she's nothing special and any interest you two might have is all in her head if you don't do something to set her straight."

Then he looked between us and added, "If I leave you two on your own, can I trust that you won't go back to throwing punches?"

I nodded and then glanced over to Bobby, who mirrored my sentiment. Then Ranger left us to stare at each other for a few moments.

"She thinks we don't want her?" Bobby finally broke the silence.

"She wants us?" I added, not sure which was more surprising.

Then Bobby smiled and said, "You're going to have to let me clean that cut and put some butterfly closures over it."

"Steph's going to shit when she sees us looking like we were in some kind of barroom brawl," I laughed.

Bobby's face wrinkled up, before he joked, "Man, I've never let anybody get these kinds of hits in when I was fighting in a bar."

I would have picked on him for that comment, but I knew it was true. "Come on. You might need a little first aid yourself," I told him, holding the ropes open with my foot and hand so that Bobby would climb out first. The fact that it gave me a front row seat to his tight ass in his gym shorts was a fringe benefit, but not the reason I did it – at least, not entirely.

It took a long hot shower plus an additional thirty minutes of anti-bacterial ointment, butterfly strips, and a lot of wincing before we were both patched up and ready for the day. We endured the morning briefing, including a number of strange looks from the guys and a knowing stare from Ranger as we walked out to our cubicles for work.

"I've got to replenish some supplies from the medical wholesaler I use locally, so I'll be out some this morning," Bobby told me, stopping by my desk. "I'm going to swing by the Plums' house and see if I can talk Mrs. Plum out of her macaroni and cheese recipe, too."

I laughed at the way his face contorted when he acknowledged that he would be making something totally unhealthy for our girl to enjoy. I glanced at my desk and realized that as much as I hated it, I had let my paperwork get away from me, so I resigned myself that unless an emergency came up at a client, I was going to have my ass in my chair all day. Bobby wished me luck, laughing at the fact that even though he would have to try and stay out of range of Mrs. Mazur's pinches, his ass was going to have an easier day than mine.

Apparently, the gods of fate had pity on me, because there was an attempted break in at a jewelry store that we monitored and a sudden appearance of a high dollar skip on Stark that kept me away from a dreaded day of computer work.

By the time I got back to the office from the successful pick up, it was 1800 hours, and I wondered if Stephanie were already upstairs. I cut short my time shooting the shit with the guys in the garage, which might have made them suspicious that something was up. But after seeing the evidence of my sparring with Bobby still clear on my face, they probably attributed it to whatever had caused that damage as still impacting my mood.

I was too antsy to stand still and wait for the elevator, so I hit the stairs instead, taking them two at the time until I hit the forth floor. Then I stopped, wondering if I was going to walk into a conversation like I had yesterday. Suddenly, I wished that I'd taken the time to shower in the gym before coming up here. I needed to get the scum of Stark off of me, but I didn't want Stephanie to be insulted if I basically blew past her. Then I smiled, remembering her post distraction ritual, and realized if anyone would understand the need for hot water right now, it would be her.

I opened the door and was hit by two things right away. First, something smelled fantastic. Bobby was a good cook, so it wasn't that strange of a sensation, but this was well over the top of delicious; I began to wonder if I should try to convince him to feed us first and I'd shower later. But almost more welcoming than that was the sound of laughter that hit me from the moment the door swung open. I didn't know what was so funny, but they both sounded completely relaxed and at ease with each other to the point that I wanted to join them.

I let the door close harder than usual so that Stephanie would pick up on my arrival and I wouldn't frighten her when I appeared in the kitchen. I knew I was still fully dressed from my Kevlar vest to the extra weapons strapped on everywhere. I couldn't remember the last time she'd seen me this intensely outfitted and wondered how she would react. Knowing what we were capable of and seeing it first hand were two entirely different things.

Still, when they began to howl again, I found my feet moved straight to the sound, and any thought of dressing down first floated away. Once again, Stephanie was propped up on the counter, and Bobby was working with his knives and a cutting board. She was picking up whatever he was chopping and placing it strategically in salad bowls, and whatever the end result was appeared to be the reason for the laughter.

Not one to be left out, I walked right over, kissed her hair, and then leaned in, crowding Bobby in the corner and looked at the bowls, erupting with laughter when I saw what I assumed was food art of a slightly questionable variety.

I had to get the initial laughter out of my system before I could speak, and even then, it took a couple of tries. "Beautiful, are you trying to ensure we don't eat our vegetables tonight?"

She grinned at me and replied, "You can't tell me you've never looked at a salad that had two cherry tomatoes framing a baby carrot and thought that it was a little suggestive."

"Maybe, but you've moved well past that," I reminded her, pointing to the second bowl. "How did you get the idea to make breasts in a salad?"

She blushed a little, but since her face was already pink from laughing, it only sweetened the color instead of taking over her face. "It's Bobby's fault!" she quickly accused.

I raised an eyebrow in his direction and grinned when he raised his hands in surrender. "Look, I only had a single Roma tomato, so I sliced it first and put a couple of slices in each bowl, but then I figured that wasn't enough, so I cut some cherry tomatoes in half and tossed them in, too. She's the one that started rearranging things."

I looked back to Stephanie and waited for her explanation.

"I picked up a couple of the little round ones, set them on top of the larger slices, and then commented that it looked like the salads had nipples. It was Bobby that pulled out that big cucumber and said if I was going to turn the salads into porno that I needed to do better than just boobs."

"So who used the slices of red peppers to look like lips?" I wondered, pointing to what seemed like a perfect mouth with a long strip of cucumber coming out of it.

"All right, that one was all me," Steph confessed, rolling into another fit of laughter when I added some slices of cucumber to be the eyes over the mouth and then put some carrot strips over the eyes as raised eyebrows to show surprise.

"What provided the shock?" Steph wondered, rearranging the carrots to make the effect even more pronounced.

"Maybe she was expecting it to taste saltier and less like a salad," I suggested.

There was a two second period of silence before she burst out laughing again.

I glanced at Bobby quickly, trying to get his take on her mood, and he nodded, which I interpreted as everything being all right since she arrived.

"As tempting as these look"—I got a little more serious and backed away from their food art—"I have to shower before I can think about dinner." I looked to Bobby and said, "Do I have time?"

"Sure," he replied, exactly the way I assumed he would. "Food won't be done for half an hour anyway, and I can hold it if I need to."

"Thanks," I told him, before deciding there was no reason to keep fighting the urge to greet him properly. I leaned over, carful to keep from showing my back to Stephanie for fear she would think we were excluding her, and pressed a kiss to Bobby's more than willing mouth.

I tried really hard not to lose myself – a constant possibility around Bobby's talented tongue, so when I heard a moan, I pulled back, not sure which one of us had made the sound. When Bobby's head turned to look at Stephanie, I realized she was staring right at us, a dreamy look on her face, and began to entertain the possibility that she was the one adding the sound effect to our kiss.

"Only thirty minutes," Bobby stated again.

I wasn't exactly sure why he was clarifying, except that I might use the hot water and the privacy of the shower to get a little relief from the idea of Stephanie's sounds being anywhere near Bobby's tongue. Holy shit, just the idea of that combination was enough to make walking difficult.

"I'll do my best," I promised, knowing now that I'd have to get clean fast, because that was no longer the most pressing need I had to take care of in the bathroom.

I rushed through everything, surprised at how quickly my release came with just the memory of Bobby's lips on me and Stephanie's sounds in my ears. Damn, if the real thing was as good as my imagination made it then my lasting time around her was going to be majorly unimpressive for months.

After I was satisfied I was clean, I threw on some ratty jeans and the same t-shirt Stephanie had worn after her shower here a week ago. I hadn't washed it and had tried to keep Bobby from discovering me holding it to my face, sniffing for any traces of her scent on the material. Strange that years with a guy never made me question my masculinity, but a few months chasing after a girl and I was turning into a first class pussy.

When I came back out, they hadn't moved, but they were no longer playing with our dinner, either.

Stephanie looked at me, and her eyes got slightly bigger, as though something about my appearance surprised her.

"What?" I asked, looking down to do a quick fly check.

"There's no gel in your hair," she pointed out, reminding me that I'd been in such a hurry, I'd just toweled off and moved on.

I ran my fingers through it and knew it was probably standing up everywhere, since I hadn't bothered to style it any. She made a face that said she wasn't pleased with something, so I gave her a questioning glance. She motioned for me to come over to her.

I put my arms on either side of her hips and bent at the waist, bringing the top of my head more in line with her field of vision. "Have at it," I offered, trying to hide my smile when her hands instantly went to my head.

When we first visited Steph's apartment with the idea of getting to know her better, she had touched Bobby's hair, tracing the parts between his rows and lightly massaging his scalp. He'd told me once we got back to Haywood that he had never come so close to shooting off in his cargos as he had with her touching him like that. I'd laughed at the time, not fully understanding how it could have such an effect. Now that she was running her nails over my scalp and playing in my hair, I got it completely and realized I owed my partner an apology.

I could have picked up what Ranger had interrupted on the mats this morning when Bobby announced that dinner was ready. I was absolutely not willing to move away from this experience, but when her stomach growled, I realized I needed to put her needs ahead of mine. Besides, based on what I'd done in the shower, I should be able to hold off, at least theoretically. But when I straightened and my zipper moved over the head of my cock, I wondered how I was going to manage sitting without permanent scarring myself.

We sat at the table, and I saw that Bobby had pulled out all the stops for dinner. Sitting right in front of her was a round casserole dish of yellow, bubbling, macaroni and cheese. To the side was a platter of oven fried chicken. I knew he'd cooked it with spray instead of butter or grease, making it much healthier than the real thing. There were the salads, which they had chopped, removing all hints of the game they'd been playing, and then some cinnamon apples on the side, which I dearly loved, but could rarely talk Bobby into cooking. I had a feeling Stephanie would like them, too, so I hoped between the two of us, we could twist his arm into making them more often.

She moaned her way through three helpings of the cheesy pasta. The only redeeming value of that experience was the look on Bobby's face telling me he was every bit as uncomfortable as I was.

Finally, she sat back in her chair, giving the appearance of being finished, and announced, "That was fabulous. It was so much better than any I've ever had."

Bobby's face lit up, and I noticed when she was around, the normal traces of stress he typically carried completely disappeared. As if I wasn't already convinced that she belonged with us, that one piece of evidence would have pushed me over the edge.

"Nothing's too good for our girl," he told her.

I watched her eyes get a little bigger at the endearment and then darken slightly. She was the first person I'd ever seen whose eye color changed depending on their mood. I didn't have the decoder listing to know if this shade meant positive things, but I was looking forward to the learning process of figuring it out over time.

"Is there anything you can't cook?" she asked him, leaning back up and finding room for another bite of her dinner.

I knew he was too modest to answer her honestly, so I jumped in. "I'll bet there are things he's never tried, but everything I've tasted that he's done has been perfect." When he glanced at me, I winked at him, never too distracted to miss a chance at flirting with the guy that had been by my side for so many years.

She collapsed again to the back of her chair and pushed her plate forward, like she was willing herself not to eat anymore. And then, for the first time since I'd gotten home, there was a brief awkward silence. I was beginning to get that itch to say something, even something outrageous, just to keep the tension that often accompanied stretches of quiet like this, but something told me to keep my mouth shut this time. So, contrary to my nature, I picked up my glass and had a slow drink, hoping my instinct hadn't steered me wrong.

Finally, Stephanie spoke. "I'm sorry about running out of here yesterday. I just got a little…overwhelmed…and confused and needed a little time to get my head sorted out after all that happened yesterday."

It almost made it sound like she was referring to the events of the skip pick up gone wrong that she needed to work through. If that were true, I'd accept it, but oh how I wished she were ready to talk about our conversation instead.

"What was confusing?" Bobby asked, clearly not struggling with her remarks the way I was.

Steph picked at the napkin in her lap, as though desperate for a distraction from the topic at hand. "Talking to you two before I left had my mind going in all kinds of directions."

"Is there anything we can do to help?" Bobby followed up. "I mean, we definitely didn't mean to confuse you."

She looked up between each of us and then glanced over to me and asked, "What did you mean when you said that you thought I was worth the trouble my life brings?"

I smiled at the memory of that part of the conversation. "What I actually said was that you weren't trouble and that the good things you brought to us made it so that we didn't even consider the hard parts to be a problem."

"And you..." She moved her face to look at Bobby, who seemed surprised by the sudden shift in his direction. "Why did you give me leftovers?"

"You hadn't eaten, and I knew you'd need something later. I liked the idea of meeting any needs you had," he replied, being a little more blatant in his response.

She put her elbows on the table and then lifted her hands to cover her face, blocking her eyes from us. We reached out at the same time, each taking one of her hands with ours and pulling it away from her face. "You guys are killing me here," she announced when we forced her to look at us.

"Tell us what's confusing," I prompted. "Ask us anything, and we'll answer it directly."

She nodded that she understood, but it took her long enough to come up with a question that I worried she was backing out. I looked over to Bobby, and he met my gaze with a steady expression. Clearly, he wasn't inclined to let her run this time. Whatever had happened in his head today had left him ready to jump in with both feet. I'd learned well enough over the years that when Bobby wanted to take over, he was damn good it, so I sat up a little more, resolving that before this night was over, we'd know one way or the other whether this fantasy we'd been entertaining over the last few weeks had any possibility of growing past fiction into reality.

As I was manning up to that fact, Stephanie stiffened, as though she'd made a difficult decision, and blurted out, "Do you guys want me as something other than a friend?"

I smiled at Bobby and we answered her in unison. "Yes."

Her shoulders relaxed so much so that I wondered how I'd missed the tension she'd let gather there. Then she followed up and asked, "What exactly do you want?"

I swallowed and felt like my Adam's apple got stuck in my throat. It's not that I didn't know exactly how I wanted to answer that question; it was that I wasn't sure how receptive she'd be to my response. But then I decided that she had shown such courage by just asking those direct questions and putting her cards on the table, we owed her the exact same thing in return.


	17. The Talk

_I probably owe JE an apology for what I'm doing to the characters she created._

_Jenny (JenRar) I probably owe you one as well for sending you so many run on sentences, comma catastrophes and poorly worded paragraphs so that you can work your beta magic to produce a readable chapter._

_Dina (aydinbydin) I refuse to offer you an apology since it's all your fault I'm writing this story in the first place. Thanks for that by the way._

**Chapter 17 – The Talk **

_Bobby's POV_

"Do you guys want me as something other than a friend?" Stephanie asked, her eyes showing us how open and vulnerable that question had made her.

"Yes!" Les and I responded together. We hadn't practiced the answer, so I hoped by hearing us both eagerly respond, she'd know we both felt that way.

She appeared to relax a little before throwing out her next bombshell. "What exactly do you want?"

I could literally hear Lester swallowing across the table from me. This was exactly what we wanted, and based on Ranger's comments in the gym this morning and how she was approaching the subject, I began to hope that she was on the same wavelength we were.

Glancing over at Lester, I could see he wasn't able to respond, so I decided to jump in with both feet and hope that if I was wrong about what Stephanie wanted, she wouldn't be frightened by my honesty.

"We want you to be with us. We want to love you and not have to hold  
>back. We want you to love us and to just be yourself," I blurted out, hoping if I opened my mouth, my heart would come out.<p>

She blinked a few times, and the silence stretched out just long enough that I began to regret my forthright response. Then she turned her head to the side, in that thinking pose of hers, and asked, "But how do we do that?"

Apparently, during the time she was coming up with her next question, Lester found his voice. "Exactly the way we've been doing it, except we all know that there's more here than just friendship and we act like it."

She tugged her hands, and we both released her, knowing that sometimes, motion helped her to think. She pulled her hair behind her head like she was going to make it into a ponytail and then let it go once again to pop back out in its wild way, curls on top of curls.

"What is it that you want?" Les asked, turning the tables on her so that we could better understand what was going on in her head.

Her fingers seemed to be the only thing in the room for her to focus on as she spoke. "I want to be with both of you, but I don't know how to make it happen in reality."

"Then that's the conversation we need to have," I said simply, trying to get her focused on possibilities instead of on finding road blocks. If she wanted us the same way we wanted her, there was no way we were going to let details get in our way.

"Why do you think it would be difficult to be with both of us?" Lester pushed, trying to get her to spell out what was still bothering her.

"What would people say?" she responded with her own question, letting us know she was still worried about the 'Burg.

"If they said you were being greedy by not picking one of us and keeping us both, would it make you want to walk away from us?" I asked, trying to help her see that what other people thought shouldn't keep her from having the life she wanted.

"No, but they'll say things about you guys. I mean, I'm sort of cursed when it comes to relationships, and I don't want you to be talked about behind your backs," she defended.

Damn, I'd figured she was worried about being called a slut for sleeping with two guys, when it turned out she was really more worried about what people would say about us.

"Were you planning on telling everybody you were sleeping with two guys?" Lester asked.

"No, I mean, my private life is mine, but I don't know how effective I'd be about hiding it, either. And if we have to hide it then that would make it feel like we're doing something wrong."

By the end of her rant, her hands were moving again, so I reached out to hold one, wanting to comfort her in any way I could, but also to keep her from smacking herself in the face. I knew she had years of experience with these wild hand gestures, but it still made me nervous that at any moment, she was going to poke herself in the eye.

"You don't owe anybody an explanation. We don't have to rub people's faces in what we have, but when they come at you – or us – with questions, we don't have to answer them. There is a big difference in hiding and not broadcasting. I'd refuse to go along with hiding what we have, because it would mean we were ashamed, which I'm not. But there is probably some wisdom in not openly broadcasting it, either. There's no reason to invite people into our private lives," I tried explaining, wondering if my words were helping or filling her with more questions.

"What about when I get in trouble with a skip or have another stalker?" she brought up. "I haven't had a crazy after me in a while. I'm probably due. It's one thing for you to say it wouldn't bother you; it's something else entirely when it's reality."

"True," Lester agreed, "and I'll admit that the idea of you having a stalker makes me crazy, but I promise that if it happens, we'll do everything we can to keep you safe and not smother you. You've proven that you are the best bet at figuring out the mystery of who is after you by solving the puzzle every time it's happened in the past. We just hope you'll let us be by your side to watch over you while you're trying to unravel what they want."

"Plus, there is a good side to having us as a package deal," I pointed out. "We tend to keep each other in check. So if one of us starts to get a little over-the-top protective, the other one can step in and help to temper that with reason."

"But you guys have been together for a long time, and you've got everything all figured out of how to be together as just the two of you. Won't you get tired of having someone else in the middle of everything all of a sudden?" she worried.

"Nope," Lester assured her. "Besides, who says you'll always be in the middle? Sometimes, we might want you on top." He wagged his eyebrows to make his point that much clearer, and she touched his arm with her free hand, keeping things serious.

"What about the guys here?" she wondered. "I mean, not broadcasting it to the world is one thing, but they're more observant than the average person on the street. They'll notice something is going on when they see me over here more often."

"You don't have to worry about that," I promised. "If they have anything to say, it would come to us, not you. The ones that are most likely to pick up on something are the same ones that just want to see you happy. I mean, did Ranger seem like he was judging you?"

"How did you know about my conversation with Ranger?" she asked, pulling her hand back once more.

"He came downstairs while we were sparring this morning and had a little chat with us," Lester answered.

She seemed to consider this for a while before speaking once more. "So what restrictions would you put on me for us to be together?"

"I don't understand," I replied, not sure I got the question she was asking.

"You know, like Morelli didn't want me to work in bond enforcement and he hated the time I spent here, Ranger wanted me to work out and eat differently, carry my gun, and stay put when he locked me up," she quickly listed off.

"You're asking how we want to change you?" Lester rephrased.

When Stephanie nodded, I sat back and covered my mouth with my hand so I wouldn't say anything stupid and ruin this whole conversation because of the shitty way she'd been treated in the past.

"We love you, Stephanie," Les leveled with her. He stretched out to pull her hand between his. "And love means not having to change. We want you for who you are. You aren't some toy we want to transform into something else. It's you, or it's nothing for us."

She was considering what he'd said, so I decided to drive the point home a little more. "Why? Are there things about us you want to change?"

"No!" She quickly disagreed with the notion of wishing we were different.

"Then why would we be any different?" I added, to be sure we were clear.

"Oh God, what will my mother say?" she asked, covering her face with her one free hand.

I took the fingers off her eyes and pulled the hand to me to hold. "I don't think she'll be all that surprised. I mean, over the last six weeks, we've probably eaten with you at their house eight times. And I've gone over a couple more than that to cook with her. She has to know something is going on, right?"

"Maybe," Steph agreed. "But suspecting it and hearing, 'Mom, I'm dating two guys at once' are really two different things. She'll start ironing the clothes people are still wearing just to have enough to do when I tell her I'm not getting married."

"Do you want to get married?" Lester asked. We had assumed it was a non-issue, but since she'd brought it up, he was right to ask.

She shivered in response. Even holding our hands, we could feel the shake work through her body. "No, I don't think I ever want to get married again."

"So the fact that we're all together isn't keeping you from getting married," Les reminded her.

Then I had a thought and figured now was as good a time as any to bring it up. "Umm, Steph, do you think you'll ever want children of your own?"

"No!" she all but screamed the response to me, leaving no doubt that it was an honest reaction to my question. "I think I'd cave to being married before I'd ever want children. I mean, I like kids, I love my nieces, but I don't think I'd be a good mother. I like taking care of things, but in my own way; I'm not the 'pack a lunch and get up to feed someone at two a.m.' kind of nurturer, though." She paused for a minute and then nodded, as though agreeing with what she'd said. "Why?"

I looked at Les and raised an eyebrow at him, seeking his permission before disclosing something private. When he nodded, I took that as consent and said, "A few years ago, after Les and I came to the realization that we'd always be together in some form, we also agreed it was best if we never had kids. To keep from ever having a slip up or a drunken mistake, we both took surgical steps to ensure that couldn't happen. We can't have children, so if that's something you wanted, we felt like you should know you'd not be able to have ours."

She listened as I spoke and then smiled slightly and said, "You mean, no birth control would be required, and no matter what happens, I can't get pregnant?"

"That's right," I agreed.

"You guys are perfect in every way," she said softly, as though hearing the two men she was considering a relationship with being sterile was the best news she'd ever gotten.

I couldn't stop myself from smiling at her take on what might have been a difficult pill to swallow if she were the 'Burg girl everybody seemed to think she would want to be one day.

"You know that's not really true, right?" Lester spoke up, surprising me. I figured he'd make a joke when she called us perfect, instead of bringing it back to a serious turn. Before she could comment, he jumped in again. "You have to realize that we have been together for a long time because we felt like we were too damaged to be around anyone else. The effect we have on each other is necessary and helps us function, but we're still rough around the edges. We have tempers, we can be closed off and rigid, and that dream you saw that one night at your apartment isn't a 'once in a long while' kind of occurrence. They happen a lot, and sometimes, they're much worse. Don't put us up on a pedestal, because we won't meet your expectations, and I hate the thought of disappointing you."

"You know that I don't see you as damaged, right?" she began.

"Then you need to look closer, Baby," I told her, feeling like Lester's point was important.

She shook her head. "I get what you mean, but just admitting there are scars from what you've been though isn't the same thing as saying there's something wrong with you. I won't put you on a pedestal if you promise the same thing to me. As much as I want to believe that you guys really want me, there's this voice that won't stop whispering in my head that I've managed to run off every guy that's shown an interest in me before and it's inevitable that I'll do it again."

Les moved his chair and then slid off the edge to kneel in front of her on the floor. "The voice saying you're somehow not good enough to keep us interested is just a whisper?"

She nodded, her eyes a little bigger and darker than they had been just seconds before.

Lester smiled up at her, cupping her face with his palm, and said, "Then we'll have to be sure when we tell you we love you and we want you that we always say it loud enough to drown out that little voice of doubt. Over time, you'll only hear our voice and that little whisper can go to hell." Only Les could say something that crude and make it sound romantic.

She smiled as he spoke, obviously needing to hear what he'd shared, and then abruptly, she looked down and seemed to blush.

"What did you just think about?" I asked, unable to wait for her to pull her thoughts together this time.

She looked at me, and if possible, she reddened more. "Well, it's just that, I'm not exactly experienced…well, there's only been a really short list of guys…I mean, this would mean...there's three of us?"

Lester laughed at her convoluted question. It was obvious her mind had moved on to sex and the idea of having sex with both of us was a little overwhelming. "You want to know how sex will happen with both of us at once, don't you?"

"Yeah," she agreed, managing to look him in the eye this time.

"How do you want it to work?" I asked, wondering how comfortable she would be discussing sex.

"That's just it," she admitted. "I have no frame of reference. I have had exactly what you'd expect of a girl from the 'Burg. Nothing more."

"Wait." I held up a hand, not sure how detailed I wanted to go with this. If she shared the full extent of her experience, there might be an expectation that we would do the same thing, and there were some conversations I didn't think we should have with her – at least, not yet. "You had a night with Ranger, right? Surely that wasn't just missionary with the lights off." We shared some crazy shit after missions in the Rangers and I knew he wasn't a straight up only kind of guy.

She giggled slightly, and I figured that was a better response than looking away, refusing to discuss it. "Well, he did come in after I'd gone to bed, and even though it was amazing, I don't think we chartered any new ground, except that he was a lot more thorough and had a lot more stamina than anyone I'd ever known."

Les threw a smirk my way, and I knew he was thinking he couldn't wait to blow her expectations about stamina out of the water. Ranger might be good, in better shape than any man on the face of the Earth, but there were two of us, and we were both in incredible shape. If we worked it right, we could literally exhaust her every night to blow her frame of reference for sexual stamina away.

"Do you trust us?" I asked, holding her gaze with mine to be sure she understood how serious I was about that question.

"Absolutely," she quickly replied, her honesty written all over her face.

"Then you need to trust that we won't do anything that would make you uncomfortable – ever. When we make love to you, we'll be sure everything we do is something you want and can enjoy. There'll be a time for exploring things together, but for now, just trust that when the three of us are together, it will be safe and loving, and we'll be sure you are completely satisfied."

"Oh yeah," Lester agreed from his perch on the floor. "You know that, right? We'd never hurt you or do something we thought would make you uncomfortable."

She nodded her agreement slowly, as though she were letting our words come over her and sink in. "Have you guys thought about it?" She paused for a minute. "About the three of us…you know."

"Oh God yes," I confessed, knowing my voice was low enough, I might sound like Tank.

"Hell yeah," Lester agreed. "There have been some nights that it was all I could do to get away from you and to the bathroom to get some relief before I did something stupid or embarrassing."

"Why?" she blurted out, apparently okay with discussing sex if it wasn't directly including her. "I mean, you still had Bobby, so you two could…"

"And we have, I won't lie to you," Lester admitted. "But from the day we realized that we wanted you with us, I've been thinking about what it would be like." Then he paused, before asking, "Have you ever thought about being in bed with us?" He ran the back of his index finger across her pink cheek. "Have you wondered what it would be like to have two men totally devoted to your pleasure?"

I watched her eyes grow even darker as she listened to his words. "Are you saying that you think the two of you can keep up with me off sugar?"

I laughed then, realizing she was joking, which was great, because it meant she wasn't running, even though she was obviously a little embarrassed talking about sex. I had a feeling after being around us for a while and learning what it was like to live with unconditional acceptance, she might be quite the wild cat in bed, but I was in no hurry to get through the reserved, hesitant place she seemed to be in right now.

Lester took the challenge of her words and responded, "Beautiful, I can guarantee you that the only time you'll have those doughnuts you love so much will be because you miss the taste. You'll never eat another one in an attempt to keep your urges at bay."

"You don't like the idea of being replaced by a doughnut?" she taunted.

I moved my chair so that I was beside her. "It's not the idea of it he's disagreeing with. It's that between the two of us, there won't be a need."

We were quiet for a minute, with Les leaning in between her legs, slipping one of his hands on my thigh, and me putting a hand on the bottom of her neck between her shoulder blades. I was surprised at how it felt to have them both with me. Maybe we'd done enough hanging out and innocent touching that we'd gotten used to this kind of contact.

"So, you two are sure that you want me?" she asked, that tiny seed of doubt still evident in her voice.

Damn it, but I'd do anything to kick the ass of every man who had done a number on her self esteem and made her second guess herself now. "Stephanie, we couldn't be more sure of anything."

"I think the better question here," Les spoke up, "is whether or not you're sure you want the complication of two guys in your life. I've heard just having one guy can be a pain in the ass, so having twice as much to deal with might be more than you want to juggle."

She grinned. "That would be true, if it were anyone else, but I think since it's you two, I can handle it."

"Damn, she's already got our number," Lester said with a laugh.

"I don't think I'd say I have your number as much as I think I'm up to the challenge of keeping up with both of you," she laughed in return, reaching out and running her fingers through Lester's hair.

His eyes closed, and I watched the hard edges of his expression melt away with her touch. I knew this was all new and I wasn't foolish enough to think it would be as simple as we'd made it out to be, but in this moment, watching her bring Les such comfort with a soft touch, I knew that whatever we had to overcome would be totally worth it.

I didn't want the awkwardness to return if her mind roamed again. And I also didn't think it was the right time to take this to the bedroom. I wasn't lying when I said I had thought about it plenty, but I also didn't want to rush her into something physical while her mind was still adjusting to being in a relationship with two guys at once. My head told me she needed time to adjust to thinking of us as more than friends, and even though my dick absolutely disagreed, I decided to overrule it this time.

"Who wants dessert?" I asked, moving to stand up.

"You made dessert?" Stephanie smiled up at me, as though I'd just told her she'd won the lottery.

"Yes. As long as I was talking to your mom to get her recipe for macaroni and cheese, I figured I'd go all the way and get her pineapple upside down cake, too," I explained, getting up and moving to the kitchen to pull out the cake I'd helped Mrs. Plum make at their house this afternoon.

Stephanie jumped up at the mention of her favorite dessert and left poor Les kneeling on the floor, wondering why he had to give up being touched just because she was getting fed again. His expression was a combination of displeasure that his head rub was cut short and joy at her apparent happiness. The combination struck me as funny.

"I'm pretty sure I'm going to wake up in the morning and see that I've been dreaming," she blurted out, pulling herself up to sit in what I now thought of as her spot on my kitchen counter.

"Why is that?" I wondered, pulling small plates down from the cabinet.

"Because you guys seem to want me, you weren't put off by my endless questions, and not only am I surrounded by two of the best looking guys ever, but there's my favorite cake, too. It's too much perfection, so I figure I have to be making this up, because reality never works out like this," she explained, smiling even bigger when I lifted the first slice of cake out and put it on a plate.

"I'm not promising everything will be easy," I repeated my own thoughts from earlier to her, "but I can tell you that this is no dream. When you wake up tomorrow, we'll still be here, and we're still going to want to be with you."

We ate our dessert in relative silence, except for the occasional moan from Stephanie, making it difficult to think about eating cake. I handed her a glass of milk, knowing she liked that as a beverage with sweet things. Once she finished drinking, she yawned. I glanced at the clock, noticing how long the meal and conversation had taken, figuring she needed some sleep.

Before I could ask where she wanted to stay, she spoke up. "I think it's time for me to say goodnight."

I was disappointed that she wasn't staying with us, but I didn't want to pressure her.

Lester, however, didn't seem to have the same reservation and blurted out, "You aren't staying?"

She grinned and said, "I want to stay in my own bed tonight and think through everything we've talked about."

"Getting cold feet?" I wondered, hoping she would put our fears at ease.

"No, I just want a chance to sort out that what I thought was only possible as a fantasy is actually happening," she explained reasonably.

"We can work on some more fantasies if you want," Les offered, stepping closer to her perch on the counter.

She moaned, longer than any of her bites of cake had caused, and I found a great deal of satisfaction that the idea of spending the night with us beat out her love of cake.

"I'm sure you can, and you will soon, but tonight, I just want to let all of this settle," she replied.

We'd given her plenty of invitations, and I felt like we had to let her go, to prove that we weren't going to try to control her.

"You want a lift home?" I offered, wishing there was a way to extend our time together.

"No, my car is in the garage," she replied, shooting down the only reason I could come up with to stay by her side. "Can I have a piece of cake to go?" she asked with a teasing spark in her eye.

I turned to cut it and then spun back around and shook my head no, obviously surprising her. "No, I think I'd better not give you any to take home. This way, I'll have something to use as leverage to get you back over here soon."

She laughed at that and easily accepted my denial of her request.

We walked her to the door and waited for her to slip her boots on and lace them up.

"Would it be too much in your space if we dropped by in the morning for breakfast?" Les asked, trying to keep from pressuring her, but needing the promise of more time with her as much as I did.

She leaned up and kissed him on the cheek, before moving over to my face and repeating the action. I wanted to grab her, pull her to me, and lay one on her, but I was afraid of it spooking her, and since the night had gone so well, I definitely didn't want to risk it. This time, we'd have to do this at her pace and let her lead.

After the door closed behind her, I stood next to Les and just looked at the door, wishing she hadn't gone. Les scratched his chest, like something wasn't sitting well there. I understood the feeling completely. "Hell, I don't like her not being here," he admitted.

"Me, neither," I agreed. "But I didn't want to try forcing her to stay. It didn't seem to fit after a conversation where we promised to never pressure her into something she didn't want."

"Yeah," he agreed, probably more out of habit than true acquiescence.

I bumped his shoulder with mine and felt him lean into me. "She wants us." His smile was almost shy.

"And we want her," I added, realizing that we had sat in this apartment six weeks ago, wondering about what had just come into reality tonight.

Before he could respond, there was a firm knock at the door. I wasn't really in the mood to deal with any of the guys, but I knew they'd just keep knocking until we gave in and opened the door. I swung the door open quickly, trying to let the person on the other side know that we didn't appreciate the interruption during our time off.

Luckily, before I said anything, my eyes took in the most beautiful sight. Stephanie was standing there, looking a little unsure.

"Everything okay?" I asked, curious as to why she had returned almost immediately after leaving.

She nodded that she was fine and then explained, "I had a minute by myself to let everything settle and then realized I was being ridiculous. If the point of leaving was to prove this wasn't just a dream, then that point would be much better proven if I stayed and saw that even when the sun came up in the morning, you guys still wanted to be with me."

I looked over my shoulder at Lester, who was grinning almost literally from ear to ear. "What do you think?" I asked him.

He shrugged, trying to play it like it didn't matter to him. "Logically, it does make more sense for her to be with us."

I stepped back and motioned for her to come back in.

As soon as the door closed behind her, she spoke once more. "And there was one other thing."

"What's that?" Lester asked, obviously eager to meet any need she might have.

"If we're together then I don't have to settle for little pecks on the cheek anymore, do I?" Her smile told me that she already knew the answer.

"Baby, you're with us," I promised her, "and you should never have to settle for anything ever again."

_A/N: The next chapter will be posted with a rating change to M. While it will **not **be the smut chapter you are probably expecting, I do think since this has moved from just a theoretical discussion of how three people could be together to an actual relationship, it's time to bump the rating to mature in order to keep from offending any readers. So, if you don't see the story in the morning, be sure your selected ratings include M. Thanks!_


	18. Back for More

_The characters below come from JE, not me._

_Jenny (JenRar) thank you for your encouragement and hard work as the beta on this story._

_Dina (aydinbydin) thank you for your suggestions and excitement about this project._

**Chapter 18 – Back for More**

_Stephanie's POV_

As soon as the door closed behind me and I was out of their direct view, I knew I'd made a mistake. It had been the perfect night – the food had been delicious and made especially for me, then they'd answered every single question I'd asked, volunteering information just to make sure I understood how they felt. They didn't hesitate to tell me they loved me, as though it were a foregone conclusion. Unfortunately, I'd felt the need to get out before I said or did something stupid to ruin the evening. And even though I could tell that they didn't want me to go, they hadn't tried to force me to stay, which I appreciated more than I could say.

I took a couple of steps away from the door as the thought passed through my mind that I hadn't even gotten a good night kiss. I smiled when I realized that was exactly the excuse I needed to go back and knock on the door. I'd said I needed time away to let all of our discussion settle, and the second I was away from them, everything had gelled, so the distance was no longer necessary. I missed them, and I wanted more. Even if some of the thoughts about what "more" might entail were slightly frightening, I still wanted it.

When Bobby yanked the door open, the first glance I got of his face made me wonder if I'd made a huge mistake, but the second he saw me, his whole expression transformed. The thought that I had the control to tame the beast that had been threatening to tear someone's head off just seconds before gave me even more courage.

He asked if everything was okay, and I just ignored that question, nodding my response instead. "I had a minute by myself to let everything settle and then realized I was being ridiculous. If the point of leaving was to prove this wasn't just a dream, then that point would be much better proven if I stayed and saw that even when the sun came up in the morning, you guys still wanted to be with me."

Bobby glanced back at Lester, whose face looked like it might split in two from the grin stretching across it. If it hadn't been for that smile, I might have believed Lester's attempt at playing it cool when he shrugged and said, "Logically, it does make more sense for her to be with us."

As soon as the door closed behind me, I spoke again. "And there was one other thing."

"What's that?" Lester asked, obviously eager to hear what else I might say.

I dropped my purse, not caring where it landed, and asked, "If we're together then I don't have to settle for little pecks on the cheek anymore, do I?"

"Baby, you're with us," Bobby promised me, "and you should never have to settle for anything ever again."

Oh hell, that was quite possibly the sexiest sounding thing I'd ever heard. I guess I was so focused on Bobby's voice that I didn't notice Lester move until his arms were behind me pulling my back to his chest. Bobby took three slow steps toward me, like he was afraid if he moved too quickly, I might change my mind and run again.

Lester's arms surrounding my sides, holding my hips tightly against his, allowed me to relax without the worry that my knees might give way. Plus, I had long felt that nothing bad was possible when I was in Lester's arms.

When Bobby's chest stopped just centimeters from mine, I found it hard to take a deep breath. His dark eyes were looking into mine, and there was no way I could look away. Hell, it was hard enough to keep my eyes from just closing on their own. Then his warm hands lifted and cupped my jaws so that his thumbs could stroke my cheeks, and he just looked at me as though I were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

I could feel the nervousness fade away the longer he looked at me, and in its place, a wonderful warmth began to fill me. The strength of Lester's support, the stroking of Bobby's hands, and his deep brown eyes all formed this pocket that I wanted to melt into forever. I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth – not far enough to make it all disappear, but enough to tug at it some – and that seemed to break whatever spell had been holding Bobby in place.

I noticed him moving slowly toward me, and I waited until the last minute to tilt my head slightly to the right, giving him greater access. He stopped, too close for me to focus on his eyes, but still not touching me fully, and just let that brief moment of _almost but not quite_ build stronger. Before I was forced to beg him to kiss me already, his tongue darted out and traced the visible portion of my bottom lip, letting me know I was still holding it between my teeth.

"Let go, Steph," he whispered, before tracing my lips once more.

My hands lifted and landed on his sides, and he hummed a sound of such satisfaction that I was touching him. "Hold on, Baby," he warned, before moving to press his mouth to mine.

I knew my hands were gripping him tightly, and I tried to make them let go, but if anything, they just clung to him harder. Bobby kissed like he did everything else – thoroughly, without missing a single spot. His full lips covered mine, moving against me until my mouth opened to him, allowing his tongue the chance to enter, tasting and moving into my mouth as though he couldn't get enough.

I was convinced my knees were no longer holding me upright, yet I never felt myself move.

Lester's voice vaguely registered in my ear. "That's right, Beautiful. I've got you. Just let go."

Then he decided to move this goodnight kiss from overdrive into super sonic speed. Moving one arm to wrap around my waist to support my weight against him freed his other hand so that he could move enough of my hair out of the way to gain access to my neck. Once he had cleared a path, his lips began to do things I didn't know were possible, but sounds came out of my throat that no piece of cake had ever warranted.

I couldn't tell how long we stood there with Bobby kissing my lips and Lester holding me up while moving his tongue and mouth along my neck, but I could have gladly stayed like that forever. I would never be satisfied with a simple peck on the lips again.

I found the courage to let go of Bobby, deciding that I wouldn't fly away if I lessened my grip. I moved my left hand up the edge of his back, rewarded with a groaning sound that made Bobby's chest vibrate against me. Then I used my left hand to reach behind me and touch Lester's hair. I knew I wasn't coordinated enough at the moment to attempt stroking him, so I just buried my fingers in his soft hair and held him to me, getting a vibration against my back that spoke of how he liked the contact, too.

I filed away the fact that they both liked to be touched and decided I would no longer wait for invitations to put my hands on them. If they were mine like they'd said, then I could touch them any time I wanted. And after this experience, I could tell I was going to want to touch them a lot.

It began to get more difficult to breathe, but I was reluctant to pull back, because I didn't know if a moment like this could ever be recreated. As far as first kisses went, it had totally blown every one I'd ever experienced completely out of the water. Bobby applied a little more pressure on his hands against me to keep me from following when he pulled his lips back. I tried to be quiet, but a little noise that spoke of my lack of appreciation for him pulling away slipped out.

Bobby laughed slightly, but made no attempt to move away farther. "I'm not leaving," he assured me, as though he knew exactly what I was thinking, "but I don't know how long we want to stand here, when there's both a couch and a bed within our reach."

I took my hand off of Lester, who was completely unphased by Bobby's words. He had discovered a spot behind my ear that I didn't realize was directly connected to the bottom of my stomach. When Lester's teeth nicked it and then the pad of his tongue soothed the sting, I decided this wasn't a dream after all. I had to have died, because only in heaven was it possible to be this turned on just from necking standing up.

Lester repeated his attention on that tiny spot once more, and my head began to roll forward, giving him more room.

"You like that?" Bobby asked, obviously knowing the answer, so I didn't bother to try and provide one. "I understand," he assured me. "I know firsthand just how talented he is with that tongue."

And just like that, both knees refused to lock. I knew Lester was holding me, but before he had to adjust to the complete force of my weight against him, I felt Bobby move away and my legs come out from under me.

My eyes flew open once more, and I realized Bobby had picked me up bridal style. I would have complained about him moving me so that Lester could no longer do that thing that had made me boneless, but the appearance of Lester's face just above mine kept any English I might have known at one point completely out of my mind.

Lester placed a series of kisses along my cheek, up to my forehead, and down the bridge of my nose, before finally settling on my lips. Holy hell, I didn't know it was possible to approach kissing in such different ways, but he and Bobby most certainly did. There wasn't one that was better than the other – they both made me mindless and desperate for more – but I could feel their personalities seeping through, so I knew I'd always be able to tell them apart based on how they kissed alone.

Bobby was all about taking over, complete possession by systematically knocking down my defenses. But Lester was pure finesse with a combination of teasing and overwhelming desire. I was in deep shit if just kissing them had me feeling this wanton and needy. They hadn't even touched me yet.

"Couch or bed, Stephanie?" Bobby's voice cut through the haze in my head.

Lester pulled back just enough for me to respond.

"Bed," I murmured, before moaning softly as Lester's lips molded to mine once more.

Bobby laughed, and I liked the way it felt against me when his body rumbled like that. "Les, man, you're going to have to stop kissing her so that we can move to the bed."

Lester made a sound like a child refusing to take a nap, before admitting, "Don't want to stop."

That only made Bobby laugh harder. "Pace yourself, man. You can kiss her all you want once we get her settled in bed."

That did the trick, because Lester stopped, as though someone had doused him with ice water, and then he stepped back. "I'll get you a shirt to sleep in," he told me with a wink.

I hadn't imaged there would be much sleeping done tonight, but I didn't argue with his offer of a t-shirt.

Bobby moved us to the bedroom, and I let my free hand move across his broad chest, amazed at how cut the muscles there were. He moved with my weight in his arms as though I were no burden at all.

"How much can you lift?" I blurted out, wondering if my hormones could be blamed for asking totally unnecessary and unexpected questions.

Bobby looked down and smiled before answering. "More than twice your weight without breaking a sweat."

"Good," I confessed, losing my grip on the editor that I depended on to keep me from saying too much, "because I love being in your arms." I felt the muscular bands around me tighten before he made a contended humming sound that made my head fall against his chest.

All too soon, my ride stopped moving, causing my eyes to open and forcing me to lift my head to see what was interrupting one my of my dreams come true. I had known I would love the whole swept off my feet and carried to bed fantasy, and I'd been right. I could definitely get used to being treated like this.

Lester stood on my other side and placed a t-shirt on my stomach. "We'll let you have the bathroom here. I put a clean toothbrush on the counter for you. Feel free to use anything you need." Then he touched my face once softly and said, "We want you to make yourself at home."

Bobby set me down so that I had to support my own weight. I got a new appreciation for his strength then, because looking at my boys in front of me, it was hard to keep standing without one of them offering some assistance. I hoped it would get easier to control myself once we had been around each other for a while.

I forced myself to step away from them and spun around to shut myself in the bathroom. Once I was in there, I went through my evening routine as quickly as possible, thankful that Les had a bit of a hair hang-up so there was a sturdy brush I could use. I knew he liked to make it look like he didn't care what his hair looked like, but I was convinced he spent time every morning in front of the mirror, putting the gel in and running his fingers through it to make the spikes stand up in just the right way, giving it a careless appearance.

I had done everything I needed to in just a few minutes, and as I stood there, blotting the water from my face with the towel on the rack nearest me, I looked up at my reflection in the mirror. A grin came over my face as I realized I was really doing this. There was nothing special about me, and yet, two totally wonderful men wanted me by their side. I knew there were probably hundreds of reasons why I shouldn't do it, but at the moment, I couldn't come up with a single one. I wanted them.

They'd spent time every day with me to prove that they weren't going anywhere. They'd provided things for me when I needed it, they'd watched over me when I was in danger, and when I'd needed help, they'd come running. They'd shown me in small and large ways that I could trust them, and for once, I was going to shut my ears to what the 'Burg might say and just go with what I wanted. With that thought, I stood up straight, opened the door, and stepped out to the bedroom.

"Come to bed, Beautiful," Lester called out to me.

I really liked the sound of that invitation. I tugged at the bottom of the shirt he'd given me. It fell plenty long enough to cover everything important, but the way they were looking at me made me feel as though I had nothing on at all.

Bobby had been standing at the foot of the bed, but when I began to move forward, he met me halfway and took my hand in his, guiding me over to his side and pulling the covers back so that I could climb in. I moved over to the middle of the bed, where I had slept the few times we'd all been together. Bobby got in, and then he and Lester moved to surround me, getting the distance perfect between not crowding, yet keeping the contact constant.

"This okay?" Lester asked when I settled on my back. He placed his hand softly on my stomach and just let it rest there, unmoving.

"Better than okay," I replied, knowing it sounded lame, but unable to do any better at the moment.

Bobby moved his hand to rest with a couple of fingers overlapping Lester's and most of his palm on my torso as well. Their hands were large enough that between them, they had covered most of my mid-section, and the warmth from that simple touch was spreading quickly through me.

"We aren't going to have sex tonight," Lester announced, leaving me trying to sort out the instant feelings of relief and disappointment. "It's not that we don't want to, because trust me, we do...but we want to do this right."

I turned my head back to Bobby when he continued Lester's thoughts. "We want to take some time to get used to what's going on between all of us and let you get comfortable with two people coming onto you. Plus, we want the chance to take you out now that you know what it means."

"You want to date me?" I blurted out, hoping it didn't sound like I was criticizing their plan.

"Yeah, Beautiful, we do," Lester assured me. Neither of them were smiling, so I knew this wasn't some elaborate joke.

"Then we're going to need to renegotiate the amount of sugar contraband available to me," I told Bobby, "because my hormones were already getting out of whack, and if you two are going to be closer than ever but still holding back, it's only going to get worse."

Even in the darkened room lit only by a light in the hall casting shadows through the bedroom, I could see both their faces light up.

Lester was the one that finally responded to my demand for more sugar. "I said we weren't having sex. I never said we'd leave you unsatisfied."

It took a few seconds for the full weight of his meaning to sink in. "Oh…no, wait, you guys can't just do…that…I mean, what about you?"

They cast meaningful glances at each other and then looked back down at me. "We're covered."

I wanted to ask what that meant and complain that if they were going to get it on that I should at least be allowed to watch. I never would have considered myself to be into watching, but just that one little glimpse of seeing them make out in the kitchen when they were cooking me brownies had told me I could totally see myself enjoying a front row seat to anything they might do together. However, I didn't get the chance to say anything before Bobby's face was hovering just above mine, as though waiting for something from me.

It hit me that he was giving me a chance to stop him, so I decided to erase any thought of me backing out by lifting my head and kissing him. He took over the moment our lips touched, lowering my head back to my pillow. I knew his hand disappeared, because the top portion of my stomach felt cool where it had been rather warm just seconds before.

Lester didn't let that thought linger in my mind for very long before he began to move his hand, which first made slow, small circles. Then, changing tactics, he moved up and down from the top of my panties, where I desperately wanted him to keep moving lower, before going to the bottom of my ribs, where I wished he would keep going higher.

My life had always been full of contradictions, and it seemed being with two guys was only going to transfer that tendency into my sex life, as well. Bobby lifted his lips from mine, but I couldn't get my eyes open to see why he was stopping before Lester's lips had replaced his partner's and Bobby's hand picked up the maddening movements that Lester had begun.

Despite my hormones jumping up and down demanding more – and demanding it now! – I recognized that waiting for anything more was the right decision. Plus, it allowed me to savor this experience for what it was without rushing through it to move on to the next thing. When Lester's lips left mine, I waited for a second before venturing a peek, assuming Bobby would return. But when my lips stayed untouched, I looked and saw that Bobby had pulled Lester to him instead and they were sharing a kiss over me that drove the point home that I was totally into watching them.

My hands were bunched up in the sheets; the intensity of the attention they'd showered over me had caused me to grip the cotton in order to feel like I was grounded. I had to force my hands to relax their hold, and then I lifted my hands to place one on each of their shoulders. It wasn't until I touched their skin that the fact that they were both bare chested registered. I was afraid my touch might make them stop, but if anything, it just bumped their energy up another notch entirely.

They pulled apart abruptly and looked down at me with matching smiles. "You okay down there, Beautiful?" Lester asked with a bit of a smirk.

"Yeah?" I replied, although it sounded more like a question than an assurance.

"It sounded like it, but we wanted to be sure," Bobby added.

That told me that I had made some kind of noise of appreciation for what I was seeing. I was tempted to apologize, but I knew I'd probably do it again, so I decided it was one of those things they'd need to get used to, because I couldn't help it. Besides, if they were going to insist on being so damn sexy and doing such hot stuff directly over me in bed, without shirts on, then they deserved any sounds I might direct their way.

"Noted," Lester announced with a laugh. "We'll be glad to take the blame for causing you to make noise because we are undeniably sexy."

I couldn't help but laugh at his joke, even though it meant I'd once again blurted out something I'd intended to keep to myself. Still, the mood had been broken enough that I figured the make out session was over, and even though I gladly would have taken more, if we didn't want the end result to move much further, it was probably smart to stop while we all could.

They pulled apart a little more in order to lower themselves back down to their respective places beside me. "So, have we settled the whole issue about you not having to settle for little kisses on the cheek anymore?" Bobby asked.

"For tonight, but I reserve the right to bring it up again in the future if I start to feel uncertain," I teased in return.

Lester laughed, before promising, "Beautiful, you can bring up anything to us at any time if you ever feel uncertain."

I felt like he was saying a lot more than just a joking response to a comment about a kiss, but I was starting to feel sleepy being surrounded by two warm bodies in a place that I knew was completely safe and secure, so I didn't even try to respond.

"G'night, boys," I finally got out before the dark seemed to overtake me.

For a circumstance I was convinced would be impossible to handle, it seemed as though this was the easiest and most natural start to a relationship that I'd ever had. With that thought, I went to sleep with their warm hands on me and a smile on my face.


	19. Not All Dreams are Sweet

_The standard disclaimer applies. I'm still looking for a genie in a bottle to make the characters below mine instead of JE's._

_Jenny (JenRar), turning over chapters to you is a lot like believing in magic. You certainly seem to perform miracles as the beta on this story._

_Dina (aydinbydin), thanks for letting me bounce ideas and questions your way. This may be posted under my name, but there is no denying the influence you've had on this story._

**Chapter 19 – Not all Dreams are Sweet**

_Lester's POV_

I thanked Vince for volunteering to file the paperwork from our final call out on our shift, causing me to get home late and pissing me off that I had to miss dinner to go run off a couple of punk ass teenagers trying to prove their manhood by spray painting a storefront monitored by RangeMan. I wasn't sure which was worse – the fact that they were breaking the law and defacing private property, or the fact that they were doing it so badly. I was glad to see them carted off by the cops, just to punish them for their lack of artistic skill as much as for the fact that they were screwing with a client's store.

I opened the door and was surprised to see the lights off. I slipped in quietly and quickly realized it was dark because no one was there. I pulled up my cell phone and saw I had a missed call. I hadn't heard it ring, but with all the noise at the client call, I wasn't overly surprised. I pulled up the voicemail and heard Bobby's familiar voice informing me that he'd been called to St. Francis because Erik had managed to get himself on the receiving end of a bullet and the meat wagon had carted him off, so Bobby had to oversee his treatment and release. He wasn't sure when he'd be done, but hoped Stephanie and I would go ahead and have dinner without him because she shouldn't go so long without eating. I deleted the message and smiled, realizing that even in the midst of an emergency call about a gun shot wound, he was still on his game enough to stay on top of what Stephanie needed.

When I realized I hadn't heard from her I scrolled through all my calls and didn't see her name anywhere. I wondered if this was one of those times when she needed some space, and wasn't sure about protocol. When I'd woken her up this morning after my gym time, she hadn't said anything about needing time alone, and every time I'd tried to roll over during the night, she'd grabbed me to cling tighter, so I wasn't getting any space clues there, either. Finally, I decided to just say screw it and call her.

It rung three times before her voice finally answered. "Hey, Beautiful," I said, letting her know who was calling with the nickname.

"Hey, Les. I was just thinking about you guys," she replied, sounding perfectly happy, which only confused me more. "What's going on?"

"Well, I just got home and Bobby wasn't here because he had to run to St. Francis for a while, but I couldn't figure out where you were, so I figured I'd try tracking you down." I decided even if it made me sound like a total sap, honesty was still the way to go.

"Oh..." She sounded confused. "Well, you guys didn't say anything about dinner, so after I finished up today, I just came back home to relax."

"So after seeing you every day for six weeks, you thought after finally telling you how we feel that we would suddenly want to skip a day?" I tried to gently point out the flaw in her logic.

"Well, you saw me this morning," she countered, poking a hole in mine, as well.

"Let me try this a different way." I decided a fresh approach was in order. "Have you had dinner yet?"

There was silence on the line for a minute, before she said, "I had some crackers."

"But not dinner," I said, wanting to be sure I understood her correctly.

"Well, I'd intended them to be dinner," she explained.

"You should be glad you just admitted that to me and not Bobby. You know you'd be enduring a long-winded speech about the importance of proper nutrition right now, don't you?" I warned her, realizing I'd basically just given her the mini-version of that very thing with my question.

"I know, but I was hungry when I came home, so I grabbed a snack of crackers, then I was going over the new files Connie gave me and time got away from me, so I forgot to have anything else until you called," she clarified.

"Would you be all right with me coming over and bringing something with me?" I offered, trying to remember that she didn't like people just assuming what she wanted, but really needing to see her tonight.

"No salad," she demanded, before adding, "I'll leave the door unlocked for you."

"What?" I blurted out. "Don't ever leave your door unlocked! Anybody could just walk right in."

"They usually do that anyway, but I figured I'd take a bath while I was waiting and that way you could let yourself in," She sounded so naive when she said that, as though I'd never be able to get in without her assistance.

"Leave the door locked, and enjoy your bubbles. I can let myself in," I told her, hoping my voice didn't betray how simple it would be.

I sent a text to Bobby letting him know I was getting dinner and heading over to Stephanie's apartment. I was nearly to her place, with some spaghetti and meatballs Ella had made for the guys and I'd happily mooched for us, when he replied that if all went well, he could join us in an hour.

It took me all of two seconds to pick her pitiful excuse for a lock and let myself in. I could hear water running in the bathroom, so I put the food down and decided to check on our girl to see if she needed any help.

I called out to her loudly before knocking on her door and then opening it. The view of her laying back in the tub with her hair pulled up, one foot on the spigot and the rest of her buried under a mountain of bubbles caused me to sway slightly as all the blood surrounding my brain went straight south.

She smiled at me and said, "I see you managed to defeat my locks."

I couldn't even respond to that comment; instead, I went for super suave by blurting out, "Need some help washing your back?"

She laughed at my attempt for a joke and then sat up enough to shut the water off. I tried to take advantage of the shift in position, but the bubbles clung to her in all the right places so that there was nothing to see. Relaxing back into the water, she replied, "I'm not entirely convinced you'd fit in my little tub, but you're welcome to try."

I had a feeling it wouldn't be all that comfortable with us both in there, and she looked so adorable all stretched out that I didn't want to interrupt. "How about I bring our dinner in here and feed you some spaghetti?" I offered instead.

Her grin told me all I needed to know, so I forced myself to give up the view and walk back to the kitchen for dinner. I decided to just serve up one big plate and let us share it. Her eyes were closed when I walked back in, and I was struck anew at how gorgeous this woman was.

Her eyes didn't open, but I watched the smile creep over her face before she asked, "Are you going to keep doing your peeping Tom imitation, or does your offer of dinner still stand?"

I was busted, which normally would have required me to smart off to cover up that fact, but with her, I found I didn't feel that need, so I just walked over to sit on the edge of the tub in order to share the food I'd brought in.

It took about half an hour for us to clear the massive pile of pasta and sauce. She moaned her way through it, and I tried to handle the balancing act of the plate and utensil, my perch on the tub, and the occasional adjustment to my pants to keep the circulation from being cut off and permanently damaging something.

I set the plate on the floor when we finished and let myself look at her again, only then realizing the bubbles had been disappearing while we ate. Now I could nearly see her body under the lacy haze the few remaining suds provided.

She laughed, and I looked up to see her watching me. "You were the one that said no sex."

"No, I said we wanted to date you properly first," I corrected her.

"You normally ogle your dates in the tub?" she teased.

I realized then how far my guard had been lowered when Bobby's voice came from the doorway. "He's only ogling because your tub is too small for him to climb in with you."

I spun my legs around to face the voice that had snuck up on me, but my fast movement caused the barely there balance I'd been maintaining to falter, and I began to fall backward into the tub. I probably could have reached out and caught myself so that only the bottom of my pants would be wet, but I decided to give Steph something to laugh about and just let myself go until my legs were bent and I was completely submerged, in the most uncomfortable bent in half position.

Just as I'd suspected, she burst out laughing, despite the fact that I had to be sitting on one of her legs. Bobby was bent over at the waist with his hands on his knees, and I was now running through all the possible ways I could explain a requisition form for a new cell phone to replace the one that I had no doubt just killed in a bubble bath.

My pride demanded I say something. "I should have joined you sooner when you first offered me the chance to scrub your back. This is really nice."

Bobby's head jerked up, and I could tell he was picturing what he'd missed out on seeing. He walked over, held out his hand, and helped me up. My socks and boots were dry, but the rest of me was definitely in need of a uniform change. Unfortunately, I had nothing with me. I didn't mind hanging out in a towel while we threw my clothes in the dryer, but the realization that she didn't have a dryer, either, hit me and I knew I'd crossed the line from clown to fool.

"Relax, man," Bobby said, clapping me on the shoulder. "I'll grab you something from the truck."

He turned around and ran out before I could thank him, so I turned my attention back to Stephanie instead and picked up the towel she'd draped over the vanity, holding it open for her to climb out of the tub and wrap up in. I wondered if she would tell me to drop the towel and get out, but she stood up, used her hands to squeegee off some of the remaining clumps of bubbles, and then stepped out carefully and turned to put her back into the towel before taking the ends from my hands and wrapping it around her.

She opened a little cabinet and pulled out another towel to hand to me. "You might want to dry off before you put on whatever Bobby has for you."

I glanced down and realized that since I was already wet, I may as well take care of everything. When I asked if I could use her shower first, she made a sweeping hand gesture that I interpreted as meaning yes, and then she stepped out to give me room. I didn't bother shutting the bathroom door; I just shucked off my clothes, leaving them in a wet heap. I knew I'd be in and out of the shower in five minutes anyway, which made it highly likely I'd be out before she had dried off and gotten dressed to see the mess I'd made on her tile floor.

Bobby was sorting through my clothes when I tore the curtain open. He looked up and smiled when he held up my phone and said, "I'm not telling Tank how this happened, so feel free to make it as clever as you want." Then he moved the pile he'd made again and looked up, confused. "Where the hell is your gun?"

He was holding the little sig I kept at my ankle, so I knew he was looking for the Glock I usually had at my waist.

"I took it off when I brought dinner in here. It's in her gun safe." His expression told me he absolutely hadn't caught onto my joke, so I added, "The cookie jar."

He nodded, knowing that was basically how she treated the ceramic container, and let it drop. I threw on the sweats and the t-shirt he'd brought in and was thankful that the differences in our build still allowed us to wear the same clothes. It wasn't the first time he'd needed to literally cover my ass, and it was nice that I could wear his stuff without worry.

Bobby heated up a plate of the leftover pasta, and we all ended up sitting on the sofa together in what I now thought of as our usual positions. With Steph leaning against my side, we talked about our respective days and laughed our way through another evening.

By 2200 hours, I figured we needed to address the sleeping question, but Bobby beat me to it. "Last night, we didn't talk about sleeping arrangements, so I don't want to jump the gun here, but we are going to be sleeping together, right?"

I looked down and saw a slight smile on Steph's face and relaxed, knowing we hadn't offended her or put her on edge with the direct question.

"We already know that we'll fit in my bed," she replied.

"What about tomorrow night?" I pushed, wanting her to make the connection that we always wanted her in our bed.

"You'll fit in there tomorrow night, too," she smarted off, pulling her head back to look at me.

"Tomorrow, Les and I both have later shifts. Any chance you'd come to Haywood so that when we come to bed, you'll already be there?" Bobby suggested.

There was no hesitation at all. "I'd like that. Plus, I can snoop through your collection of movies to see if you two are capable of watching anything other than action flicks."

I kissed the top of her head before telling her, "Look through anything you want. We're not hiding anything from you." There might be things I wished she didn't know about me, but I wasn't willing to hide them from her, so I hoped she wouldn't treat me any differently after seeing the copy of _My Fair Lady_ hidden behind the _Star Wars_ DVD box set.

We went to bed soon after and assumed what had become our standard positions. Amazingly, with Stephanie between us, I drifted straight off to sleep, not suffering with the usual difficulty of calming my mind in order to rest for the night.

Somewhere in the darkness, my mind drifted, and I found myself in the jungle of Vietnam, where I'd gone on one of the few solo missions Uncle Sam had created just for me. I'd taken out a target easily and was working back to make my extraction point until I came upon a clearing where there were three children in a cage. They were filthy, barely covered with scrappy rags for clothes, and they were huddled together, as though terrified for their lives.

I couldn't communicate with them, as languages weren't my specialty, but I could follow their hand signals to see a trip line that was rigged to a series of landmines. If I got close enough to try opening their cage, I would end up killing us all. It took me three hours to systematically uncover and dismantle the mines so that I could safely approach the door. By the time I got the lock undone, I'd missed my rendezvous, but I wasn't worried about it. I could radio for another extraction, and with the jungle as a backdrop, I could hide out for days if necessary.

I got the door open and motioned for the kids to follow me. They stepped out, still clinging to each other, but by the time we reached the edge of the tree line, two soldiers came forward with rifles that were old and beaten up, but still deadly. They shot the youngest child point blank, terrifying the older two so that they took off running. I tried to yell at them to stop, not confident that I'd cleared every detonation device. I watched them get just past the cage where they'd been held captive when the click of a mine went off, just before the explosion took both their lives.

I didn't even bother to use my gun; I went straight for killing the men in front of me using only my bare hands. It was almost like I could feel my knuckles hitting them still as the memory played in my dream.

Before I got to the good part, where I put a bullet in both their heads just to be sure I'd completed the job, I could hear someone calling my name. My first reaction was to run away, because I was supposed to be on this mission alone, and it could be a trap. But then I recognized the voice and knew that deep sound had to be Bobby so I stopped fighting to get away and looked for him instead. He kept calling, and eventually, I came to my senses enough to realize I'd been asleep and the children hadn't been killed once again. It was just a dream. I tried to slow my breathing down, feeling like I'd run for miles, before I opened my eyes.

When I focused on Bobby's worried face, I was able to get my head straightened out and remembered that I was safe, it was just a dream, and I was never going back to that jungle again. Then I looked past his eyes and remembered where I was. In a panic, I attempted to sit up, looking around for Stephanie, wondering how bad it had been, since she was nowhere to be seen and Bobby was straddling my waist.

"Easy, man," Bobby told me, putting a hand on my shoulder so I'd know he was real and I could stay where I was on the bed.

"Where's Stephanie?" I asked, desperate to know if I'd done something horrible.

"Bathroom," he replied with a tilt of his head in that direction.

I let out a breath, hoping she'd been up when I started flailing around, sparing her the horror of seeing me so out of control. The dreams had definitely gotten better over the years, but there was no denying that they still were a horrendous thing to endure.

"You okay?" he asked, concern written all over his face. I remembered that no matter how bad it was to endure the dream, it was just as bad to be on the outside, trying to get in to save somebody you cared about from the terror in their head.

I nodded, not trying my voice to give away how big a lie that was.

"Where?" he asked, knowing the bare details of my worst missions.

"Vietnam," I told him, before adding, "It was the kids this time."

"Shit," Bobby sympathized, knowing that one got to me more than the memories of when my own life was under attack.

I looked in his eyes, needing that connection of someone who knew I wasn't crazy just because my mind was stuck in the hell I'd been forced to endure. It took a few seconds before the brown eyes I knew so well began to help me settle down and unhook from the rush of the dream.

He saw the change in me as I accepted that there was no threat here and that I was safe with him. Once he knew I was coming down, he spoke again. "Listen, you started this one all of a sudden, so I didn't get to you right away…"

The door to the bathroom opened, interrupting whatever he was about to say next. Light from that room poured into the bedroom where we were. Stephanie's silhouette came in, back lit from the bathroom so that I could see her figure, but not make out the details of her face.

Bobby's angle was better to see her, and he sucked in a breath, cranking my heart rate up well above where it was when I first woke. He didn't attempt to get off of me, but motioned for her to join us instead. I wasn't entirely sure I wanted her that close to me right now, but I trusted that he would keep me from doing something I'd regret.

She moved quickly, jumping onto the bed and curling up on her side so that the back of her head was to me, her cheek was on my stomach, and her arm was wrapped around Bobby's leg at my waist. She moved her head back and forth a little, finding just the right spot before relaxing against us.

I didn't want to touch her. I didn't want the shit I'd been through to be connected to her in any way, but I found that with her that close, I couldn't stop myself, and my hand moved to touch her hair softly.

We stayed still for a while until Bobby slid to the side opposite Stephanie. He kept his leg on top of mine and put a hand out to touch Steph, too. My free hand moved to rest on his back, and I risked shutting my eyes again, praying that being surrounded by these two people I loved would keep the dreams at bay for what remained of the night.

The next time I woke up, the sun was shining through the windows and Bobby was looking at me with a smile on his face.

"What?" I asked as a whisper to keep from waking the mass of curls still clinging to me.

"We made a Les Sandwich," he said with a growing grin.

"Shut up," I replied, realizing I was too exhausted to be witty.

"You up for gym time this morning, or you want to skip it?" he asked, giving me the option. I looked back down at Stephanie and knew if we posed that same question to her, she'd look at us like we were crazy.

"Gym," I replied, wondering how I was going to get loose. I could see none of her face, but the gentle rise and fall of her chest told me she was still completely zonked.

Bobby nodded and looked over to Stephanie before saying, "I'll get her untangled, and you can slide down. Maybe we can do this without waking her up. I think we'd be in deep shit if we woke her at 0530 because we wanted to go to the gym."

I nodded, knowing he was right, and waited until he unwrapped her fingers from the boxers I had on. She made a noise of complaint, but once he got her hand free, I slid down and off the bed. I started dressing as quietly as possible in the sweats Bobby had given me last night and stuck my feet in my boots, not bothering to lace them up. I was going to change before hitting the gym anyway.

Bobby repositioned Stephanie so that her head was on a pillow and then moved the second cushion to take the place of a body beside her. He tucked the covers around her and leaned down to kiss those crazy curls before jumping up and dressing quickly. We moved to the den, where I gathered my still wet clothes from last night's bath, and he wrote a note, leaning it against the coffee pot so she would see it.

We rode in silence and went through our usual practice of getting ready before heading downstairs to the gym. I went for a treadmill, needing to run for a while to clear my head, and figured I'd spend the rest of the time beating the shit out of a punching bag to finish out my time.

I was rounding out my forth mile when Bobby came over and smacked my arm to get my attention. Stephanie might be causing us to be sappier around her, but when it was just the two of us, it hadn't changed the way we related much yet.

I pulled the ear bud out of my right ear so I could hear him over the music I had blaring.

"Got to head out," Bobby said, letting me know he would be gone when I was finished. "Brett needs stitches."

I held out my fist and bumped knuckles with him. He looked like he wanted to say something else, but shook his head and said, "You wanna have lunch later?"

I knew I was on for an afternoon shift in the field, and I had a couple of hours to pull on monitor duty tonight, so lunch sounded good. "Gonna call Steph?" I asked, glaring when Cal turned around on his treadmill and looked our way when I said her name.

"Nah, she mentioned working with Lula today, and they usually eat when they tackle files together," he replied reasonably.

I still felt like he was holding something back, but the gym was beginning to fill up, so I decided this wasn't the place to push the point and let it go.

I watched him leave, definitely out of my haze enough to see the outline of his ass in those gym pants, and then wondered if we could work it so that lunch today might include dessert in the apartment. We'd promised Steph we wouldn't make love to her until she was ready, but while we waited, there was no reason he and I couldn't support each other.

I put my earphones back on and pumped up the volume. Maybe if I ran an extra mile, I could wait for lunch.


	20. A Shared Vow

_JE created all the characters below._

_Jenny (JenRar) thank you so much for your work as the beta on this story. _

_Dina (aydinbydin) thank you for your support and encouragement on this and …well, in general. _

**Chapter 20 – A Shared Vow**

_Bobby's POV_

The waitress set down our drinks, promising to have our food right out, and then bounced away, letting her eyes linger on Les as she disappeared. I stretched my legs under the booth, matching Lester's posture and allowing my calves to rest against his so that there was some contact between us.

"All right, quit stalling," he announced when I picked up my water glass. "I know there's something you don't want to tell me, so spill it."

Damn, it was hard being around somebody that knew me so well... My quiet routine didn't work on him. He was dead on; there was something he needed to know.

"Last night," I started, knowing that this story was going to upset him, but also believing he needed to hear it. "Steph woke me up with an elbow to the side, telling me to wake up because you were dreaming."

He ran his hand through his hair, cracking the gel he'd worked so hard on this morning and rearranging his spikes slightly. That was his reaction when he heard something upsetting. Since he didn't interrupt, I took that as permission to keep talking.

"I sat up quick, assuming you were either talking or flailing around and that was how she knew. But when I looked at you, it seemed like you were just completely asleep."

The space between Lester's eyes narrowed as he tried to figure out what I was telling him.

"I told her you were fine, not to worry, but she gripped my arm before I could settle down and told me that I had to do something, because you were really upset." I remembered battling the dual desires of wanting to do something to make sure she knew I'd heard her, but knowing that if I touched Les, I would wake him up, and I didn't see the need for us both to miss out on sleep.

"I kissed her and told her that as long as you were just laying there, I didn't have anything to do, so I laid back down and turned so that she could spoon up to my chest instead of yours, wondering if she'd woken up from a dream and had projected that on to you."

Les shrugged, obviously not blaming me for what happened yet.

I wasn't sure how to proceed, so I paused and had more water.

"I know you aren't done yet, so just spit out the rest," he prompted when I'd waited too long to keep going.

I tried leveling him with a glare that told him I didn't appreciate being rushed, but he seemed immune and made a gesture for me to start talking.

"Once she settled against me, I kissed her hair and told her to go to sleep. Maybe two minutes later, you went from completely still and peaceful looking to right in the middle of a battle. You swung your right hand around, and it landed right on Stephanie's throat. I hadn't gone to sleep yet, so I reacted fast, but you still managed to tighten down on her for a second or two." I knew better than to stop the story there or Lester's mind would go to every possible horrible outcome.

"I got your hand off, climbed over Steph to get to you, and then told her to go to the bathroom and give me a couple of minutes to get through to you. Your arms were everywhere, so I had to turn back to you to keep from getting hurt. I figured she'd gone, but as soon as I had your fists under control, her hand appeared and touched your face. You didn't relax right away, but you did stop fighting. It took a minute, but as soon as your arms dropped, she stopped and left the room. I called you a few times, and you opened your eyes about twenty seconds later," I said, rushing to finish the story quickly.

"Did I..." he started, but stopped to run his hand through his hair once more. "Did I hurt her?"

I had to shrug, honestly not knowing the answer. "She seemed fine when she climbed into bed with us. And I know she held onto you something fierce through the rest of the night."

"I could have killed her," he overreacted to announce.

"No, you couldn't," I emphatically disagreed. "I was there, and there's no way in hell I'd ever let you do that."

"If she hadn't woken you up, you would have been asleep when I started. I could have choked her, and you'd never have known," he argued.

"I'd have known. She'd have fought. Hell, I think you'd have stopped if I'd given her time to reach out and touch you instead of jumping in to take over," I told him, trying to share what I'd been mulling over all morning.

"What?"

Clearly, I hadn't explained it well enough to be understood.

"So far, we've each had a dream around her, and she has been able to calm us both down just by touching us softly. I have a feeling if you two had been alone and you'd started dreaming that she could have calmed you down without me. Something in both of us responds to her, even when we're asleep. My first reaction was fear that one or the other of us was going to seriously hurt her one day, but then after thinking about it, I have a feeling that's not true. I completely overreacted out of reflex last night, but the next time something like that happens, I want to let her try calming us down instead of having us intervene," I finished, hoping he'd go along with it.

"Hell no!"

I wasn't surprised by his strong reaction.

"If I start dreaming, you'd better get your ass over there and wake me up or knock me out. Don't you dare let her get in the middle of that." He must have seen my disagreement, because he leaned forward. "I mean it. If you want to test out what might happen when you have a dream, then I'll let it go for a little bit and see what she can do, but there's no way I want to risk hurting her again."

"Don't you want to—" I started to say before he jumped in.

"Damn it, Bobby, no," he interrupted me. "You have to promise that you won't let her do something stupid, in case I hit her – or do something even worse. The whole time I was running this morning, I was trying to figure out if we were making a monumental mistake even trying to have something real with her. How can we say we love her if every night, we put her in danger just because we're too selfish to admit that we aren't good for her?"

"You think I haven't had that same thought?" I challenged. "Do you think after that first night at her place when she talked me out of a dream that I didn't run a hundred different scenarios about how this relationship was really just tempting fate – that the biggest danger in her life might be going to bed with the two of us?"

"Then why are we doing it?" he pushed back.

"Because we can't _not_ do it," I argued in return, knowing the negatives in the sentence made it confusing. "Because we know we're better with her in our lives, and I'm convinced she's better for having us with her, too."

"We can still be around her during the day," Lester offered, grasping at straws, "but at night, we could split up to keep her safe."

I gave him a look, hoping he'd think through what he'd just said so that I didn't have to shoot holes in it.

"What?"

Obviously, he didn't get it.

"It would be for her own good."

"Right..." I stretched that word out so he'd hear the sarcasm in it. "And we'll explain it by saying we don't trust her to do the smart thing if fists start flying and that we want to have lots of sex, but that afterward, we want to leave her in a cold bed and come back to Haywood without her. She'll love that."

"Fuck, Bobby. I don't have the answers here, but this is a problem," Lester admitted, leaning back once again in his bench seat. "What do we do?"

I let his question hang out there, even though I'd already considered it and had a response ready to go. I didn't want him to think I wasn't taking it seriously. Once I figured I'd waited long enough, I told him, "I think we should learn from the guys that came before us and not make decisions about what's best for her safety without asking her. I love your sorry ass," I told him, getting a slight smile in return, "and I'd be pissed as hell if you told me we couldn't share a bed because you didn't want to hurt me when you were dreaming."

"But this is different," he jumped in. "You're strong enough to fight me back. She isn't."

"If she were trying to strong arm you like I do, then I'd agree completely, but that doesn't seem to be her first response. She's just trying to soothe us, and somehow, it works, so why would we tell her not to do it?" I pointed out. "Plus, I'm there, too, and I hope that after all these years, you know you can trust me when I tell you I'll keep her safe – even if that means keeping her safe from you."

He didn't say anything right away, so I let him stew while the waitress put our food down and hovered briefly. After she stepped away, he said, "How would you feel if you'd grabbed her throat while you were out of control?"

"I'd be beating the shit out of myself, just like you are," I agreed, not wanting him to think I didn't see his side of it. "But if the tables were reversed and I suggested not sleeping with her anymore, how you would respond?"

He gave me a half smile before popping a french fry in his mouth. "I'd be fighting you on it, too."

"We've warned her about how screwed up we are," I went on. "Now we have to trust her to speak up if it's more than she handle."

Before he could say anything in response, he grabbed his phone off his hip and pulled it up to read a message. I waited, wondering if he was getting called out for a pick up. He seemed to be staring at the screen, as though he couldn't understand what it meant, so I tried to be patient while he figured it out.

Finally, he set his phone down and pushed it across the table, pointing at it for me to look for myself. He'd gotten a text from Stephanie's number that said simply, _I__ miss you. Please tell me that when I wake up in the __morning, you__ and Bobby will be in bed with me_.

"Did you talk to her?" he asked.

"No, but it is kind of freaky that she sent that right now. It's like she knew we were discussing not sleeping with her anymore," I pointed out.

"That instinct of hers is something else," he agreed. "How did she know I was dreaming, if I wasn't moving?" he asked, turning the topic around again.

"I have no idea," I said with a shrug. "I meant to ask her that, too, but I didn't get the chance."

He picked up his phone and started typing away before sending her a response. When he was done, he set it down for me to read.

_Miss you, too. We wouldn't miss the chance to hold you for anything in the world._

I raised an eyebrow in question, wondering if that meant he'd come to my way of thinking.

"All right, you smug bastard," he said, stealing a cucumber from my plate. "We'll try it your way."

I bumped his leg with mine under the table and took one of his fries in return. "It'll be all right," I said, praying like hell I was right.

"It better be, or I'm holding your ass responsible," he taunted.

"My ass is more than willing to pay the debt, if you think that's necessary," I teased in return, realizing we'd gone a few days without having sex and briefly considered the idea that the lack of physical release might have had something to do with his nightmare last night.

"Eat fast," he commanded, letting me know he'd had the same thought.

We both had a little over an hour before we had to get back to work. If we finished our lunch in the next ten minutes, that might give us enough time to take the edge off before reporting for duty.

An hour and fifteen minutes later, I walked down to the medical office, meeting Hal to check on his wound while trying to cover up the limp my body wanted me to give in to. Lester and I had never been gentle with each other, but what we'd just done in our apartment was down right barbaric. It was exactly what we'd needed right then, but I also knew that wasn't the only way we wanted our sex life to go. I forced those thoughts to the back of my mind, knowing that if I started thinking about us gently making love to Stephanie, I'd be limping for a totally different reason.

I slathered the stitches in front of me with some antibacterial ointment and told him to stop scratching at them. The skin was red in streaks from his fingers messing with it, and I didn't want him to rip a stitch. I listened to him grouse about it being uncomfortable and then told him that even if I took the stitches out, he would still be on desk duty for the next two weeks. Those were the rules, and there was no reason to make himself miserable looking for an out. Honestly, sometimes I felt like I worked with a bunch of children.

He stopped at the door and said, "You know, when Steph comes down here, you give her a lollipop."

Cheeky bastard. "When you grow tits and learn how to do the same things with a stick that she can do, I'll gladly give you one, too," I responded, smiling with satisfaction when Hal's face lit up bright red and he walked out without another word.

I was just about to pick up the phone to call Steph and let her know somebody had an eye on her candy stash, when my cell went off with Lester's ringtone.

I didn't even get hello out before he started talking. He rattled off an address and said, "Get there five minutes ago, and bring your big bag with you."

I jumped into motion, knowing from his tone that somebody was hurt, and based on the fact that he'd suggested I was going to need my big bag of supplies, I knew it was bad. I called him back from the truck in the garage. "I'm rolling," I told him so he'd know I was on the way, "What am I in for?"

He drew in a breath, which was odd. Lester could lock his emotions down every bit as tightly as Ranger. I used to tell them it had to be a genetic trait they'd inherited. The fact that something was breaking down that ability to function in extreme stress had me on edge and flooring it out of the garage.

I couldn't help but notice that he didn't give me the wounds like he usually would to brief me when I was being called out in my medic role. "Bones and I were doing surveillance when we got a call from Cal to respond to this address. I knew something was up, because Cal was still on limited duty with his leg, so I couldn't figure out why he'd be in a position to need backup. All he would say was that Stephanie had gotten an idea in her head that she refused to let go of, and he was going to try and keep her safe until we could get there, but that I needed to hurry."

I turned, onto the street he'd given me, realizing I still had eight or nine blocks to go to find the precise address. As I looked around, I saw an ambulance, which I assumed was marking the spot I needed to get to.

"When we got here, there was a skip in cuffs, but Cal looked like he'd seen a ghost." Les saw my truck and shut his phone, pissing me off that he didn't keep talking while I parked and got my gear together.

"Where is he?" I asked when I opened the door.

Les looked confused at first, and then realized what I'd meant and corrected me, "Cal's fine – or he will be. He and Bones took the skip to the station."

"Why am I here?" I was quickly getting pissed that I still didn't understand what was going on.

We cleared the corner of the ambulance, and my eyes fell on Stephanie, who was sitting on a stretcher with her legs crossed, fighting the EMT at every turn. He was pointing out that she needed to have her cuts looked at, and she was telling him no and pushing his hands away. I understood his frustration, having felt it when trying to take care of someone who was resisting, but that didn't help me temper my response when he suggested if she didn't settle down, he was going to drug her.

"You put a needle anywhere on her, and I'll knock you on your ass without using drugs," I warned him.

I recognized the responder, having seen him at other scenes, but was aware he was still new to the job.

"I wouldn't have to do it if she'd move her hands and let me take a look at her injuries. There's too much blood for it to be a simple scratch like she says. She needs medical attention."

I held up my bag and said, "She'll get it. Now move."

He took a small step to the side, so I stared at him, hardening my face, and he got the message this time, stepping completely away from the stretcher. I could play the gentle caregiver, but right now I was the pissed off man who wanted this little shit the hell away from my woman. Luckily, he got the message based on the look on my face and moved a little quicker to get out of my way.

I set my bag beside her on the stretcher and reached out to cup her face. It was a little dirty and her eyes were dilated, but that could have been from the stress of whatever had happened.

"What's going on?" I asked, keeping my hand on her cheek while she got her thoughts together.

She put a hand on my chest and explained. "I picked up my files at Vinnie's, and one of them was a domestic abuser. I complained about it to Connie, because the guy was getting really violent, but Connie pointed out that the bail was too low for it to be a RangeMan file, and Vinnie insisted I had to take it. I told him I'd do it and would figure out something, which I know wasn't the smartest thing to do, but I didn't feel like I had a choice. Cal was there picking up stuff for the office, so I asked him to ride along as backup. He didn't want to at first, trying to convince me to bring it back to the office first, but when I told him I was going to try with or without him, he agreed to come along. I figured with him there, too, there was no way I would be in danger."

She moved her hand back and forth, as though trying to keep me calm, and continued on. "We agreed that I'd do the talking and Cal would be the muscle standing just behind me where the skip would see him. I figured if the skip tried anything funny, Cal could get to him and I'd step out of the way."

She stopped talking, and her hand was still until I prompted her to keep talking. "I guess he already knew who we were, and he had no intention of getting brought in. He threw the door open and went straight for Cal, doing something weird to his knee. As soon as Cal hit the ground, he spun around on me with a knife in his hand. I jumped off the porch into the bushes to get away from him, but I couldn't leave Cal on the ground, so I doubled back, and the skip was waiting on me with that damned blade out. He was faster than I was."

I pulled her to me gently, still not sure where she'd been injured. The whole time she'd been talking, I was watching her face to see what else I could learn besides what she was telling me.

She pulled back and shook her head, obviously not done. "When I went down, Cal got up, and he and the skip fought for a minute, but when he went after Cal's bad leg again, the skip had the upper hand. And this time when Cal went down, he was out, so the skip grabbed me and dragged me into the house. I tried fighting him, but he still had that knife pointed at me, and I already knew he wasn't afraid to use it. But in the end, he didn't want to hurt me. He said he just needed to get me out of the way so that he could leave. He opened a chest like a toy box, and made…he made me get in and then locked it."

Something about that whole thing was obviously the most upsetting part of her story, because the tears started pouring from her when she said he'd locked her in the box. She sniffed a few times and then finished her story. "I guess Cal got up and got to the skip before he got out of the house, and this time, Cal knocked him out and cuffed him before calling for backup. Cal didn't have any tools to cut off the lock, and it was shut with a combination, not a key, so he couldn't pick it. He tried talking to me through the wood, but it was muffled and I didn't know what was going on. When Lester got here, he took the hinges off the back and got me out. By then, the ambulance was here, too, and the blood went everywhere when I first stood up, because being all balled up in the box made it look worse than it was."

I looked around and saw Lester standing to the side, talking to the EMT I'd run off, and briefly wondered why he hadn't been watching over Stephanie. After all she'd been through, I was shocked he wasn't holding her, refusing to let go.

"What else?" I asked when she stopped talking.

"Officer Gaspick was here when Les set me on the stretcher. He wouldn't let Lester talk to me, because he said he had to get my statement before it was impacted by anyone coaching me on what to say. Then the EMT guy ran off Gaspick, saying I was obviously too injured to deal with him. Les heard that and dragged the cop away, with him screaming that Les would pay for interfering in a police investigation. Then you came around the corner when Les reappeared."

"Are you going to let me take a look at you, or am I going to get my hand smacked, too?" I asked, hoping to make her smile.

"You can do it," she said, looking slightly embarrassed.

"Hey..." I lifted her face to look at me once more. "You know I'll take care of you."

"I know, but I didn't want to let the other guy do it, because I would've had to take off my shirt," she explained, drawing my attention to what she was wearing for the first time.

"Aren't you hot?" I asked, seeing she had on a plaid shirt that was buttoned all the way up to the top. I'd never seen her wear a shirt like that. With the top button done, it gave her a slightly nerdy look that didn't match her usual fashion sense.

She agreed that she was warm as she started undoing her flannel, beginning at the bottom. Lester pulled the EMT away from the scene completely, obviously not wanting to let anyone else get a look at Stephanie without her shirt on.

When she finished with the buttons and opened the shirt, I knew instantly why she'd refused to let the guy on the scene treat her. Around her neck was a handprint-shaped bruise. I saw a knife wound – it was a little on the deep side – at the top of her shoulder and another graze on her lower side. I knew the one at the top needed stitches, but the one lower down would probably do with just some butterfly strips to hold it closed. Neither was life threatening, so I reached out and touched the bruise on her throat.

"Oh, Stephanie," I said, realizing the whole argument I'd made at the dinner with Lester was probably going to be revisited as soon as Les saw these marks. If he'd grabbed her hard enough to hurt her like this, there was no way he'd jump back into the same situation and risk hurting her worse next time.

She grabbed my hand and shook her head no. "It wasn't Lester," she stated strongly.

"Baby, it's exactly where he grabbed you last night," I reminded her.

"No, he didn't do it. The skip grabbed my throat when I didn't jump in the box right away. He had to threaten me before I would climb in and let him lock me in, and that's where the bruise came from. I could feel it throbbing while I was locked in there, and I buttoned my shirt before I got out so that Les wouldn't see it and jump to the wrong conclusion," she babbled.

I wasn't entirely sure I believed her, and she must have recognized the doubt on my face. She made a noise of aggravation before prompting, "What hand did Lester grab me with?"

"I don't know..." I wasn't interested in recreating the nightmare from last night.

She, however, was insistent, so I thought back and knew he would have gone after her with his right hand. She nodded when I said it and then pointed to her neck.

"Is there enough of a handprint for you to see where the thumb is?"

I looked at the mark closely and saw exactly what she meant. Giving her a slight smile at how she'd kept her wits about her through a horrible ordeal in order to protect Les, I agreed with her. "It's definitely a left hand."

"You have to help me cover it up until we explain it to Les. He'll get the wrong idea, and he'll pull away from me or push me away for my own protection. Please, Bobby. You have to help me." She was getting more frantic, but when she raised her left hand to grab hold of me while pleading her case, I saw her grimace in pain from the cut on her shoulder and I was snapped back to the reality of her injury.

"I'll take care of it," I promised her, before pointing to her bloodied shoulder and saying, "but right now, you have to let me get to work."

She nodded and sat perfectly still while I did a quick field dressing on her, working as fast as possible while still trying to keep the stitches small and neat. I knew it was ridiculous to give her this level of detailed work, but I wanted to minimize the scar – not because it mattered to us, but because I didn't want her to have a reminder of such a horrible day.

When I finished patching her up, I pointed to her neck and said, "Don't button it back up all the way. It just brings attention to the fact that something's wrong."

I put my bag on my back, glad that I used a backpack for my medic gear, and then I lifted her into my arms, relieved she didn't fight me on holding her. Something told me she liked being carried around in my arms, so I planned on doing it as much as she'd let me.

When I came around the side, Les looked over and raised an eyebrow in question.

I looked to the EMT and said, "I've patched her up. It looked worse than it was in reality because of how she'd been folded up in the box. We're taking her home now, so you can go."

I didn't give him any more attention and turned to face Lester, with Stephanie still curled into me in my arms. "Did you hear what happened?"

"I got the story from Cal," he told me, letting me know he'd probably gotten most of the details.

"What kind of shape was the skip in?" I needed to know he'd been taught a lesson for what he'd done to Stephanie.

Les made a face, as though he didn't want to tell me something, but in the end, he admitted, "After Cal told me about the skip choking her and shoving her in a locked box, I flipped out a little and taught the fucker a lesson before Bones got me off of him. They didn't take him to the hospital, but the cops did note his battered appearance."

I nodded, glad to know that Les had taken care of the skip and that he already knew about what was done to Steph. "He left bruises on her neck," I told him, watching as his mind mulled that over.

"Did _he_?" The emphasis on the word let me know that Les doubted it was the skip's fault and he was taking the blame himself.

"Yes, _he_ did," I retorted, cutting off his thoughts. "He used his left hand, clear as day with the thumb print on the mark."

Les looked down and lifted his right hand, like he was testing his dominant hand once more. "You sure?"

"Positive," I assured him. "The skip is totally to blame for every injury she's got at the moment."

"Want me to ask Vinnie to bail him out again?" Les offered so we'd have the chance to both go after him for hurting our girl.

"No, but you do need to have a chat with Vinnie," I told him, letting him know there was still something to be settled from this whole ordeal. "That file never should have gone to her. Even with backup, she should never get someone that violent."

Lester's face hardened as he nodded. "I'll swing by the bonds office now. You taking her home?"

I looked down at the woman in my arms and considered the question. "Yeah, I'm taking her to Haywood. I'll clean her up a little better and then put her to bed for a bit."

Lester got closer so that Stephanie's body was between us. He brushed back some of the hair that had come loose from where she'd pulled it up and leaned in to kiss her face. "Remember, you promised to be in our bed when we get home tonight," he told her.

She turned to face him and wiggled against me to put her down. As soon as her feet hit the ground, she flung herself at Lester and clung to him as though she couldn't let him go. I knew he was talking to her, and I could see the sobs moving through her body, so I scanned the area to be sure they were safe to take care of each other for as long as they needed it.

I watched them both begin to relax, holding each other, and realized it made perfect sense why Stephanie wouldn't be afraid of being with us. We always said we needed each other because we understood, having lived through a nightmare and come out on the other side with the bumps and bruises to show for it. Seeing her torn shirt and her muddied jeans, I realized the scale of what she'd been through might be different, but it was just as true for her that she'd made it through her own nightmares and lived to fight another fight, too. She wasn't afraid of being with us, because she totally got why we were the way we were.

My eyes met Lester's, and in that moment, I knew he'd understood the same thing. She might react differently, but she was just like us. And the edge to his eyes told me he was making the same vow I was. Our girl should never have to endure this kind of thing again, and as long as we had breath in us, we would do everything possible to make it so.


	21. More Dream Weaving

_I hope JE doesn't mind what I've done to her characters below._

_Jenny (JenRar) I can't thank you enough for your willingness to work as the beta on this story._

_Dina (aydinbydin), I can't thank you enough for giving me the courage to write this story in the first place._

**Chapter 21 - More Dream Weaving**

_Stephanie's POV_

I was having a wonderful time walking through a field full of flowers. It smelled fantastic, and I could run my hand over the top of the blossoms to touch the velvety petals of the blooms. Then the wind began to blow, and I felt like I was being pushed around because of it. I didn't fight it, though, because it seemed to me the wind belonged in this scene more than I did. Then I noticed that the wind had apparently blown me into a florist shop, because I was inside, but still surrounded by flowers, and the smells and touch of the soft buds had not changed. I was a little overwhelmed, because the walls trapped the scent, making it stronger, but it was still a beautiful setting, so I began to walk around once more.

Then I felt as though I was being pushed again, and I found myself in the walk-in storage area of the shop. The room was only a few feet wide and perhaps twice as long and refrigerated to keep the flowers fresher. I could feel myself shivering, and I was no longer able to enjoy the sights and scents of the blossoms, because I felt like they were too close to me.

When I turned to escape, the door closed in my face, blocking my exit. Then the wall behind me seemed to move so that the room I was in was shrinking. The flowers were getting closer and closer, and soon, I was surrounded so that no part of my body was untouched. I began to panic. I didn't want to break the vases or the living plants, but I couldn't stay still as the room continued to close in on me. Finally, I had to fight, unable to stay still while the claustrophobia built in me. I screamed and tried to push against the walls, needing to get away from the sickeningly sweet smell.

I could hear someone calling my name on the other side of the door, and that made me want to fight all the harder so they'd know I was trapped and help me get out of this shrinking prison. The voice grew louder, and then I realized it was more than one. Thank God. RangeMan must have found me, and if the guys were here, then they would find a way to get me out. I couldn't take much longer in this small space, so I hoped they hurried.

The voices got louder still, and I realized it was Bobby and Lester who had ridden to my rescue. I could feel myself fighting harder, needing to get to them, because I knew they would make the panic and fear that were threatening to overwhelm me go away. I had to be sure they knew I was here, so I pounded on the wall with everything I had until my hands got tangled in the vining plants so that I lost the use of my arms entirely. I guess that snapped something in me, because I screamed with all that I had in me.

At that exact moment, I felt myself being lifted up, and I stopped making noise because I was too confused to scream and try to reason out why I was flying. Finally, I decided that this might be easier to figure out if I had my eyes open. I couldn't remember when I'd closed them and was surprised at how hard it was to force my lids up, but eventually, I won, and right in front of my face was a very worried looking Bobby. I felt something touch my shoulder and turned my head to see an equally worried Lester. Neither was wearing a shirt, which was a welcomed diversion over what I'd been enduring only seconds before.

Lester leaned forward when I glanced his direction and touched his head to mine. "Hey, Beautiful," he said while rubbing our foreheads together. "We've got you."

His assuring words on top of Bobby's strong arms wrapping around us allowed me to let out a long breath and try to relax.

"It was just a dream," Lester promised, keeping me focused on him and not getting swamped by the memory of what had felt so real.

Bobby's hands began to move, rubbing enough to remind me this was real, not the images of my dream. "You want to talk about it?" he asked, not pushing in any way. I guess if anybody understood that there were times you really didn't want to get into the details, it would be these guys.

I shook my head no, but decided I should probably put their minds at least partly at ease by saying, "It was just a strange dream where I was trapped in a small space that was getting smaller by the minute, and I panicked."

"Flashback to this afternoon?" Lester asked, trying to get more details.

"Not specifically," I replied, a little embarrassed to admit I'd been attacked by flowers. I knew I'd never been a roses kind of girl, but I didn't think I harbored any ill will toward them, either. "I've had a thing against small spaces for a couple of years now."

"What happened?" Bobby asked, continuing his hypnotic rubbing.

"Stiva," I said, remembering that Lester had been there, but not Bobby – at least, not that I could remember.

I counted to four in my head before Lester pulled back and said, "The coffin and then the cabinet. Damn, Beautiful, I never even thought of that."

I was glad to know that I'd kept my newly developed phobia a secret from the guys. There were enough things that I felt made me a laughingstock that adding irrational fears to the list would have been more than I wanted people to know about.

Lester pulled back, allowing me to turn and look at Bobby. I watched as the clues Lester dropped reminded him of what he'd no doubt heard or read the report about.

"Yeah, after that, I haven't done so well with small spaces. There's that feeling of suffocating that comes just before I start to panic."

"I can attest to the panic," Lester replied, rubbing his chest and drawing my attention to the tanned skin there.

What he was subtly saying hit me, and I felt horrible, "Oh, God, Les. I didn't mean to hurt you. I didn't even know you were there. I'm so sorry." I tried to make my mouth shut before I said something I'd regret, but with my mind flying through all the possible ways I'd just embarrassed myself, it was inevitable that my mouth dropped hints of where my head was going, causing me to end my rant by accidentally saying aloud, "It's not even safe for them to sleep with me. They're going to want to cut and run just to be able to get a decent night's sleep."

"Stop," came Bobby's voice, much harder and more authoritative than I'd even heard him before. Strangely, my body immediately responded and my mind stilled per his command so that I could focus on what he might say next. "There's no way you're going to run out of our bed because you had a nightmare." He paused for a minute to let what he was saying sink in. "Do I need to remind you that if there's danger to anybody here, it's probably you because of what might happen when the two of us are sleep?"

I shook my head no, remembering how worried I'd been this morning that Lester would try to push me away out of fear that he had hurt me during his dream last night. I was ready to fight tooth and nail if I had to in order to stay with the guys that had come to mean so much to me. I should have known they'd feel the same way.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, not entirely sure why I was apologizing.

"For what? You did nothing wrong," Bobby corrected me. "You had a dream; then you let us hold you and show you that the images in your mind couldn't hurt you as long as we were around. There's nothing to be sorry for."

"Come on." Lester tried to pull me back down to the mattress. "Let's try to get some more sleep before the sun makes us all get up."

I shook my head no, knowing I needed to get the feeling of the walls closing in out of my head or I'd just be wasting my time lying down. "I just need a little space for a few minutes," I told them both, hoping they'd respect that and not push me to stay with their bodies up close to mine. As much as I loved them against me, I wasn't sure I could handle the closeness right now.

I got up quickly, feeling some soreness in my back and legs from being crammed in the box this afternoon. Deciding to use that as an excuse, I walked into the kitchen for a bottle of water and a chance to stretch. The guys stayed in the bedroom for a while, something I appreciated more than I could say. I used my time to try working the kinks out of my body, giving up eventually when I realized I was just as sore now as when I first got up. I went into the hall bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet, only to find it was completely empty. Who had a medicine cabinet with no medicine in it? A medic who didn't believe in randomly dolling out pills, that's who. I shut the door, admitting defeat, and went back into the bedroom, hoping the master bath might be better equipped.

I smiled when I saw several over-the-counter varieties of pain relief and then wondered why he had so many. Was one better than the other for what I needed?

"That depends on what hurts and why," came Bobby's deep voice from the door. He walked up behind me and kissed my shoulder, not the least bit frightened by the mass of hair in his way. "What's wrong?" he asked, reminding me of the medication I had been seeking.

Then he put his arms around my waist, pulling my back to his chest and causing me to tense up at the closeness. I knew this would fade, but I didn't want to insult my boys before it went away. I should have known better than to think I could play it cool and hope they didn't notice.

I watched his face in the mirror as he definitely picked up on my tension when he tried to pull me closer. I waited to see the judgment come next, but the only thing I could pick up on was understanding before he released me and asked again, "What hurts, Baby?"

"Being folded up so small has my back and legs sore," I admitted.

He pulled out a bottle of Advil and shook out two into my palm. "Pain relief and anti-inflammatory for any muscle swelling, but the best thing you can do is come lay down on your stomach so that I can work the knots out before your muscles tighten up any more."

That was an offer too tempting to refuse, so I let him take me by the hand and lead me back out to the bedroom, where I crawled up to put my head on my arms so that he could work on my back. I figured he would straddle my waist so he wasn't bent at a strange angle, but he knelt beside me on the mattress instead, working at a more difficult angle to keep from making me uncomfortable.

"It's okay," I told him. "I know it's you."

"That's all right, Baby," he replied, understanding exactly what I'd meant. "We'll do it this way tonight, and then tomorrow, we'll see about switching things around.

"Shut your eyes, and let me get the knots out," he commanded, working as gently as possible while still forcing some of the kinks in my shoulders to give up the hold they had.

I felt another set of hands in my hair and couldn't keep my eyes open if my life depended on it. I loved having my hair played with, and Lester's gentle touches on top of Bobby's therapeutic ones quickly proved to be more than I could resist.

I don't know how long they worked on me, but the next time I opened my eyes, the apartment was flooded with light and I was alone in bed. I stretched a little, trying to move slowly in case I was still sore. I was pleasantly surprised to only feel a little tenderness in my lower back. What had been in my shoulders seemed to have disappeared. I moved into the bathroom, running my fingers through my hair and judging that the sheer volume alone would mean a shower to tame it back down to a manageable level. I smiled when I looked at myself in the mirror and saw a big sheet of paper taped where my face should have appeared.

_Good morning, Beautiful. I hope we didn't disturb you while we were getting ready. I'm out making client calls, but Bobby is going to be around unless there's an emergency. You should stop by his office once you're back in the land of the living so he won't worry about you. Tonight, dinner is all me. I'm making my world famous chili, so brace yourself to be impressed. Love, Les_

I smiled at all the information they willingly shared with me. I knew their schedules, what was going on for dinner, and that they loved me. I stood there for a minute with a ridiculous grin on my face as I re-read the note. It wasn't until I shifted my weight to be more on my other foot that my head moved enough for me to catch my reflection in the mirror as well that I remembered what I needed to do. Tame the beast on my head first, and then I could obsess over the sweet note from Les.

Since RangeMan had such a large hot water supply and I figured at ten in the morning no one else was using it, I took my time in the shower, having to borrow a little shampoo from the boys. As I suspected when I got out, the shampoo and lack of conditioner didn't do me any styling favors, so I mooched some styling gel from Lester and attempted a French braid. It took a while because I was out of practice, but when I finished, it seemed to be holding up well enough. I then realized my folly in that I had nothing to hold it in place with.

I looked at the drawers on the opposite side of the vanity from where I'd found Lester's stuff and ventured to peak in the top one, hoping Bobby would have a rubber band around. He didn't disappoint, so I took one of his to hold my hair back. It was smaller than I was accustomed to, but I assumed the size worked better for holding his rows in place. Still, it did the job and was definitely tight enough to ensure it didn't slip off.

With that done, I walked out, realizing I only had yesterday's clothes to put on. I remembered Bobby saying something about having Ella bring me a uniform when he brought me upstairs after the botched take down, but for the life of me, I couldn't remember where it was. I tightened the towel around me and ventured out of the bathroom in search of something that I could wear. In their closet, I got temporarily distracted while looking through their clothes, impressed at the amount of color other than black.

I didn't see anything that I thought was for me in there, so I stepped out and looked around. My eyes fell on the dresser, where there was a stack of clothing that appeared to be just my size. I smiled at the RangeMan-labeled panties and slid them on. I appreciated the guys going commando, but there was no way I was wearing cargo pants without something between me and the zipper.

Having tackled that task, I moved to the kitchen, where there were a few pots and pans out, along with some canned tomatoes, a seasoning packet, and a bag of tortilla chips. I opened the fridge and saw hamburger, onions, some intimidating looking peppers, and several kinds of real cheese. I had a feeling Bobby had gotten everything ready for Lester to prepare the one dish he seemed to enjoy cooking.

Breakfast seemed like a good idea, so I began looking through the cabinets on the off chance there was something good to eat hiding in one of them. I couldn't find anything other than horribly healthy looking cereals that I didn't feel desperate enough to crunch my way through. I grabbed my pocketbook, which was conveniently sitting on the bar where I wouldn't miss it, and looked to see if I had another candy bar that I'd somehow purchased and forgotten about.

Disappointed, but not overly surprised, that the only thing in the bottom of my purse was a fuzzy peppermint, I picked up my phone and saw there was a voicemail and a text. I went for the voicemail first and heard my mother's voice say, "Stephanie, just because you have Robert cooking for you now doesn't mean you can't stop by for a visit. I made those little cookies you like so much with the oatmeal and chocolate chips." She disconnected after leaving her bribe, and I decided I'd go straight there. She didn't sound upset about Bobby cooking for me, which gave me hope that I wouldn't have to endure the whole "Joe being my last chance at happiness" lecture.

The text was from Bobby and said simply, _Check inside the microwave. x __Bobby_

I couldn't image what would be in there, so I took a few steps to the side and opened the microwave door, immediately greeted with a single Boston Cream Doughnut and a thermos. I pulled them both out and unscrewed the lid on the thermos to see it was hot coffee, already mixed with cream and sugar. The first sip I took directly from the container nearly burned my mouth and sloshed down the front of my shirt.

Three paper towels and just as many expletives later, I decided to pour it in a mug this time to keep history from repeating itself. The doughnut disappeared in four delicious bites, allowing me to finally feel awake and alert enough to figure out my exit strategy. If I stopped by to see Bobby, there was a much greater chance I'd run into someone else and they'd see the wet shirt I was currently wearing.

I let out a sigh and went back to the guys' closet, hoping I could find a shirt that would work to at least get me out of the building. I could tell most everything hanging up was way too big and would swallow me whole, so I glanced on the floor and saw a stack of folded t-shirts. The top one looked well worn and had a picture of a needle and in small print, the words, _Medics do it from Behind_. I laughed at the sentiment and then figured the writing was so small, it wouldn't be easily readable, so I slipped it on and immediately decided it was on the floor out of sentimental value, because there was no way Bobby would fit in this shirt. It was big on me, but not too big to work by tucking it in.

Having fixed my wardrobe issue, I left a note on the kitchen counter telling Les that I was looking forward to seeing how hot he could make it in the kitchen, and then picked up the mug I'd swiped so that I could finish my coffee on the way to Bobby's office.

Stepping off the elevator, I could hear Bobby tell somebody to stop being such a girl. I couldn't stop myself and moved quickly into the doorway to say, "Or if you're going to be one, put on your big girl panties and stop whining."

Bobby laughed so hard, I worried that he wouldn't catch his breath. Hal, who I presume was the one being lectured, had the decency to blush and hop off the table. Hector said something in Spanish, which Bobby replied to in kind. Hal nodded at me on his way out, and Hector stopped, glanced down at my shirt, and then back up to my face with a smile. He said something to me in Spanish that I didn't understand at all, before kissing my check and walking out.

Bobby came over to where I was still standing in the doorway and took one of my hands in his, smiling at me as though my presence was all it took to totally make his morning.

"What did Hector say?" I asked, realizing I had a ready interpreter in front of me.

Bobby looked down slightly before looking back up at me and saying, "He said seeing you happy gave him hope."

"What a strange thing to say," I replied, still at a loss as to what he'd meant, even hearing the words in English.

Bobby shrugged, as though it didn't matter to him at all, and then used his free hand to point to my shirt. "You found something to wear, I see."

I looked down and smiled. "Yeah, the shirt Ella left had an unfortunate start to the day and wasn't usable."

"Hey." He hooked his finger under my chin and pulled my face up to look at him. "I like seeing you in my clothes, and I'm thrilled you looked around for something to wear. We want you to be comfortable there and to understand that whatever you see is yours if you need it."

I nodded that I'd heard him, and he asked where I was off to. "My mom left a message about me coming over, so I figured I'd do that first before she starts upping the ante and threatening to cut me off from dessert."

"I can make your favorite cake," he reminded me.

"Yes, but you'll only cook it for special occasions. She'll make it on demand," I said, pointing out the difference.

He nodded that I was dead on with that point and then looked a little more serious to ask, "You doing all right this morning?"

I refused to let myself dwell on a freaky dream, so I put on my perky face and tried to convey that all was well. Fake it 'til you make it, had served me well enough in the past that I wasn't willing to surrender one of my favorite coping mechanisms for honesty.

He listened without interrupting and then said, "You know you don't have to bullshit around us, right? We'll try really hard not to hover or crowd you if you don't want us to, but you don't have to pretend that everything is perfect when it isn't." Bobby wasn't fussing or angry. He was just calmly reminding me of something I should have known, but needed to be told again. These weren't the men of my past.

I smiled and said, "I'll try to remember, but old habits die hard."

"I heard that," he agreed, before taking another step toward me, eliminating most of the distance between us. "Is this okay?"

It took me a minute to realize he was waiting on a response. Having him so close to me had short circuited my brain temporarily.

I finally gave up on giving him an eloquent answer and just made a happy humming sound that I hope he understood as "Hell yes, it's okay, and if you were to move slightly closer still, it would be even better."

He must have understood me perfectly, because he dropped the hand he'd been holding and pulled me tightly against his hard body. My hands moved quickly to work up his chest and grip the back of his neck. Bobby moved his head down slightly so that our lips were nearly touching. I remembered the way he'd made me feel a couple of nights ago when he'd first kissed me, and I had to remind myself not to lock my knees in preparation for what I hoped was going to be a similar experience.

I knew he was moving slowly for my benefit, and he was probably trying to draw out the tension to make our touch that much more powerful, but I couldn't wait anymore. I lifted myself slightly on my tiptoes and pressed my lips to his. I realized immediately the huge mistake I'd just made. From the second our lips touched, I felt warm. It was like little sparks were touching all over my body and causing my muscles to move without my permission. I turned into some kind of wanton hussy, gripping his neck and locking my arms around him to keep him from pulling away, and then my hips began to move against him, as though trying to get just enough friction to get some kind of relief from the unbelievably warm sparks still moving across my skin.

It was a bit of a compliment that he moved so that one of his strong thighs went between my legs, giving me better leverage for the friction my hips were still generating. He opened his mouth, allowing me full access to explore. I was starving for him, and in the back of my mind, I thought I might be acting just a little over the top, but the rest of my brain was shouting, "More! More!" and the deep sexy moaning sound Bobby made wasn't helping to calm me down any.

A phone rang in the distance and was just enough of a distraction to pull me to my senses. I released the lock I had on his lips, but didn't move anything else. "Do you need to answer that?"

He shook his head no, "Voicemail will take care of it."

But the spell was broken from the brief conversation, and I recognized that the medical office wasn't where I wanted to first experience what I was sure the masterful Bobby Brown could provide; plus, there was the whole element of one of the guys coming downstairs and discovering me throwing myself at the company medic that I figured was probably not a good idea just yet.

So I let go of the grip on his neck and took a breath through my mouth. Bobby leaned down once more and placed a soft kiss on my lips. I knew he wasn't going to push for us to pick up where we'd left off, so I relaxed and accepted it as a tender way to say goodbye.

"You'll be back for Lester's chili, right?" he asked, as though nervous that I might try to bail on dinner.

"Of course," I replied, glad to see his smile return at my quick response.

I took a few steps away and then turned back, glad that Bobby had a private office for this conversation. "One more thing," I said to get his attention.

He lifted both eyebrows, as though shocked and interested in what was coming next.

"After dinner, I want dessert," I declared, watching his face carefully to see how he interpreted what I was saying.

He blinked three times before saying, "Chocolate?"

I shook my head no without offering any other clues, but decided to have a little mercy and told him, "I'm having that problem that we've talked about before when I don't get enough sugar."

"Cake?" he attempted again.

Again, I gave him a negative response. "The problem is worse than it's ever been," I teased him, trying to get that bedroom airy quality in my voice.

He finally seemed to get what I was saying, because this time, he smiled and said, "Ohhh, that kind of dessert."

"That's right." I smiled in return. "And I want enough of it to leave me feeling too satisfied to even get up."

His face transformed from playful smiling to sexy so quickly that I didn't even see the change. "Baby, I can guarantee that between the two of us, Les and I can promise you won't have the desire to get up, but even if you did, you damn sure won't have the energy."

I gave him a final smile and quickly retreated. Despite his promise and my belief he and Les would be perfectly capable of delivering on every word, I was so glad to know that my mother had a batch of cookies waiting on me. I needed a place to hide for a little while, and the 'Burg would be perfect for that. I definitely wasn't changing my mind, but I had a feeling going back to their apartment tonight would mean a definite change to our relationship, and I needed to spend some time in denial land in order to keep my courage up for whatever might happen later.


	22. Two Angels

_All the credit for the characters below belongs to JE._

_Jenny (JenRar) I don't have the words to thank you for the time you spent working as the beta on this story and answering my questions about the plot._

_Dina (aydinbydin), I also lack the words to sum up the amount of that this story that is directly because of you. But the scene below with Hector I blatantly stole from your suggestion, so thanks for that._

**Chapter 22 – Two Angels**

_Lester's POV_

I was having a crappy day. I was soaking wet from chasing a skip down Stark in the rain. I'd gotten him and hauled his sorry running ass back to the station, but the fact that I was having to shower and change clothes in the middle of the day had put me in a foul mood.

I guess it was somewhat unfair to blame it all on the skip and the weather. Bobby and I had spent every night this week with Steph curled up against us, but we had yet to take our relationship to anything beyond some serious necking and sleeping in the same bed. Between the three of us, somebody had been called out unexpectedly every night since I'd pulled her out of that box six days ago. Bobby said he thought she was ready for more physically, but we both felt strongly that the first time needed to be when we were both there. We knew she was nervous about having sex with two guys, and the only way to get over that anxiety was to show her there was nothing to be afraid of. We had each enjoyed some time alone with her, but we both felt the pull to share ourselves with her at the same time. I knew we'd cleared our schedules tonight and neither of us was on call, so we just had to hope nothing came up for Stephanie.

No sooner had the thought crossed my mind than my phone rang with her special ring tone. I grinned while answering and heard the annoyance in her voice right away.

"Hey, Les, is there any chance in hell that you and Bobby can come to my parents' house for dinner?"

I glanced at my watch and saw it was 1630 hours. "Do you want us there at 1800 hours, or now?" Her tone said now, but her words had only said dinner. I'd do anything in the world for this woman, but I wasn't going to voluntarily put myself within grabbing distance of her grandmother any longer than necessary.

Steph made a growling sound and said, "Six is fine, but please don't be late. I can't take a lecture about drying out the roast on top of everything else."

"What's going on?" I pushed, wondering what she was being badgered over. I thought we'd gotten her mother off the cop lecture, so I didn't know what else we could do.

"Mom seems to think I need a husband," she blurted out. "According to her, I'll never be happy until I have one."

"What would you like us to do?" I wondered, hoping she wasn't going to ask us to pretend to be marriage material. We'd covered this right off the bat when we let her know what we wanted. She couldn't marry both of us, and it would set up a strange dynamic to marry one over the other. Plus, she'd said she wasn't interested in marriage. This had the potential to take my crappy day and throw it into seriously fucked up land instead.

"I want you to be there with me when I set my family straight about my current relationship status," she blew me away by confessing.

"We'll get there as soon as we can. I just have to round up Bobby, all right?" I said, trying to boost her confidence.

"Thanks, Les," she said a little quieter. "I'm sorry about all this, but I think the only way she'll believe me is if she sees for herself it's true."

I rushed through my shower and then sent a text asking Bobby where he was hiding. He responded back with a message to get my ass down to the breakroom. Hell, it seemed like today was just one big fire after another to put out. Bobby rarely swore, especially not in a text message, so I wondered what had him in such a state.

I grabbed everything I needed and checked out my hair once more before heading upstairs to five to see what was going on in the breakroom. When I walked in, I saw Bobby sitting at a table with his back to the wall, surrounded by Cal, Hal, and Hector. The guys didn't look pleased with my partner, which put me instantly on edge. If they thought I was just going to stand back while they got on his case about something, they had another thing coming. I didn't want to ruin the look I had going on for the Plums' house, but I wasn't going to sit back and let them go after Bobby undefended, either.

"What's going on?" I asked from the doorway, crossing my arms to show I wasn't in the mood for any bullshit.

Hector grinned and said, "We were asking the same question, but Bobby seems to be struggling to come up with answers."

I raised an eyebrow, and Hal moved to show he had an iPad in his hand. We'd begun using them as video monitors on calls when there was something we wanted to show a client from our security system. My guess was there was a video on there they wanted some details about.

I nodded toward Hal and said, "Let me see it."

He handed it to me, and I touched the screen to bring it to life before hitting play. I tried to control my face as time stamped images of Stephanie were displayed going in and then out of our apartment. They had tracked the fact that she'd spent every night with us for the last week. There was a piece of me that wanted to roar "take that, she's ours," but the bigger piece of my brain wanted to tear into them for daring to ask us questions about Stephanie. Our private lives were none of their business.

The final video was a week old and was from the doorway of Bobby's medical office. It looked like Stephanie had interrupted Hal's visit in the med wing, and after he left, Bobby and Stephanie talked for a minute. Then Bobby got really close to her and eventually pulled her to him in a heated kiss. Hell, I didn't need the sound to know that she had probably made some totally hot noises. That had to be one the sexiest sights I'd ever seen. The two people that meant the most to me in this world, together like that, made me wish our schedules had been more accommodating. I tilted the screen back so that I could watch it twice, before shutting it down and looking up again.

Cal was the first to break the silence. "What are you two playing at?"

"We're not playing," I replied in a clipped tone.

"That's Stephanie," Hal tried a different tactic, as though I couldn't tell who the leading lady was in the movie I'd just watched. "If you two want to bring somebody else into your bed, it's your business, but the moment you tapped her, it became a RangeMan problem."

"Back off, Hal," I warned, not wanting to hurt the kid, but not being opposed to it, either, if he didn't step down.

Bobby spoke up then. "You guys have known us long enough to know better than to accuse us of trying to hurt Stephanie."

"You may not be trying to hurt her, but when you get tired of the novelty of a woman, then she'll be the one trying to pick up the pieces," Cal challenged.

My fist hit the table. "Damn it, Cal. Stephanie isn't a novelty. Don't you dare insinuate otherwise." I would have preferred to slam my fist in his face rather than the table top, but I couldn't forget what he'd done to protect Stephanie a week ago at that skip's house, and I couldn't make myself hurt him intentionally now. Taking on the skip had set his recovery back several weeks with his knee and I wanted to honor that kind of sacrifice, but he was making it really hard at the moment.

He narrowed his eyes at me as though trying to work out a complicated math problem, but relaxed in his chair without saying anything.

"You mean, the three of you are really…I mean, it's not just about…sex?" Hal finally got a whole question out.

Bobby stepped in before I flipped out at what they were accusing us of. "Look, I'm not saying our lives have always been upright, but in this, with her, it's real. We love her, and we'd never hurt her."

Hector was the next to speak up. "You're being greedy."

"What?" I didn't follow him at all.

Instead of responding to me, Hector looked at Bobby and argued, "A white girl like that, from her side of town, should have demanded that only one of you court her."

What was this? The middle ages? "She's willing to accept us as a package deal. What does it matter to you that Stephanie is more open minded than you gave her credit for?"

This time, I saw something in his eye before he spoke that told me he was just joking. "Because Bobby should have stood up and claimed her for himself, which would have put you back on the market for the right man." He copied my eyebrow wag when he said it.

I leapt across the table and slugged him in the arm – not as hard as I could have, but hard enough to let him know I didn't appreciate him scaring the shit out of me, either. Besides not appreciating his joke, I owed him one since I'd found out that he'd been leaving little treats for Stephanie on her desk each day. I couldn't be sure, but it was almost like he was intentionally trying to get sugar in her system while we were trying to get as much of it out as possible. I had no way to prove he knew about what sugar did to her hormones, but I wouldn't put it past him to use that knowledge to his advantage.

My response cracked everyone up, until Cal got serious once more. "We just had to be sure this was real. I mean, it's Stephanie, and we couldn't just stand back and let her get hurt."

"I get it man, I do," I assured him, appreciating what they were attempting to do.

"And for the record," Hal jumped in next, surprising me, "if you two hurt her, even unintentionally, we'll be there to remind you that nobody gets away with hurting Stephanie."

Bobby nodded. "Deal. But don't stand there waiting for us to screw up so that you can step in. This isn't some passing fancy; we're in it for the long haul."

The guys seemed to accept that and stood up to leave. I handed the iPad back to Hal, but held on to it to get his attention. "Those images need to be burned, got it?"

He nodded, and I spoke once more. "Asking us about it is one thing. Turning our private life into a video for anybody with access to the server to see isn't going to end well, all right?" I might seem laid back, but I was still a member of the core team, and as such, I had every bit as much of a right to issue a command as Tank did.

"Yes, sir," Hal thoughtfully responded, making it clear. He'd get rid of this footage in its compiled form, and he wouldn't pull anymore together. There was no reason to do it after our conversation; plus, he was recognizing my authority at the same time.

After they split, I looked to Bobby and asked, "How bad was it?"

He shrugged and admitted, "The first five minutes was almost humorous. Then they brought out the show and tell and I got pissed, so the final ten minutes were beginning to strain my control."

I let out a low whistle at that. Didn't these guys know of the two of us, the one they needed to watch out for was Bobby, not me? I had a short fuse, so I tended to blow quicker, but it burned out faster as well. My partner held his emotions closer to him and controlled them much better. This served him well in the day-to-day, but it could sometimes bite him in the ass, because he'd hold his temper as long as he could, and when he finally blew, it was huge and with major consequences.

Most people tiptoed around Bobby because they didn't want to piss off the guy who could drug them and take them apart or put them back together. But the truth was, it served them well, because if they ever got on his bad side enough that he erupted, it was damn near impossible to calm him down enough to pull him off of somebody. Maybe it would be good for the guys to see him flip out. It had been a while since it happened, and there was enough new blood here that a visual might be necessary to make the point about how dangerous he really was.

Bobby broke the silence in the breakroom by asking, "Did you need something, or were you just missing my good looks?"

I shook my head, groaning at his attempt to make a joke that would typically fall into the category of something I'd say. Being around Stephanie had a whole host of side effects, not the least of which was a much more relaxed Bobby. It suited him and caught me off guard regularly, both of which I considered to be good things.

"Steph needs us at her parents' house," I informed him, getting my head back to the reason I'd been looking for him. "Her mom is pushing her that the only way she'll be happy is to get married."

"I thought we'd gotten her off the cop," Bobby grumbled, obviously shocked to hear of the pressure Steph was getting from her mom.

"I don't think the lecture is about Morelli, really. I think any guy would do," I reported my impression.

Bobby looked confused. "Why does she want us to show up?" he asked while standing, obviously ready to do whatever our girl needed, even if we didn't understand the reason why.

I couldn't wait to see his reaction. "She wants to tell her folks about both of us and set her mom straight that she'll never get married. She seems to think her mother won't believe dating two guys is possible unless we're there to confirm the facts."

A slow grin came over his face that I hadn't expected.

"What's got you on the happy train?" I wondered.

"She's willing to face down her mother and the expectations of the 'Burg to be with us, and she's not trying to hide what we have," he explained. "That's huge, man. I figured she'd deny us being together to anybody from the 'Burg for years before she'd have enough confidence to finally lay it out there."

"This could get ugly," I warned him, feeling like he wasn't looking at this from all angles. I was all for the sunny side, but those rose-colored glasses could have you charging unprepared for a massacre, and that wasn't on my to-do list for the day.

He shrugged off my concern. "It could, and it might, but we'll be there to back her up, and if it gets to be too much, we'll get her the hell out of there. It's the fact that she's not ashamed to speak up that's got me happy."

I could see that, so I prompted him to see if he was ready to roll; when he walked out of the breakroom, I took that as confirmation that he was. The ride was quiet, with both of us lost in our thoughts.

When we got there, Bobby glanced over and asked, "Is her grandmother here?"

"She didn't say," I replied, knowing he wasn't all that eager to be felt up by those surprisingly nimble fingers, either. "Come on, man," I told him, opening my door to get out. "I've got your back until we sit down to eat."

"What about after dinner?" he asked, acting surprised that I would leave him hanging.

"After dinner, you can watch mine," I joked. "That way, neither of us will be so used that we can't enjoy the remainder of the night at home."

Before he had a chance to respond, the front door opened and the object of our discussion stood there looking at us like Steph did cake – hungry, greedy, and just waiting for someone to look away long enough for her to reach out and grab what she wanted.

"Look who showed up on the doorstep just when I thought the dinner table discussion couldn't get any more interesting," she teased, stepping back so that we had to pass right by her hands to get into the house.

True to my word, I followed Bobby in with my chest nearly touching his back, getting a strong grope from the elderly fingers as I passed by. It was a miracle that Stephanie had turned out as well adjusted as she had after growing up in this house.

"Stephanie's in the kitchen with her mother," Mrs. Mazur said, losing a little of her usually jolly demeanor.

I decided to try and see if the crazy old woman was an ally or too far gone to be helpful, asking, "Is everything okay?"

Mrs. Mazur looked me up and down, as though sizing me up, and dropped all hint of teasing to reply, "That depends on what you being here will mean. She needs somebody to be on her side without taking over."

We could handle that. "Then everything is going to be all right," I assured her, watching her face take on the mischievous element it so often held.

"Then I'm going to go ahead and sit down at the table. I want to be sure I get a front row seat for this," she replied with a smile.

I caught up with Bobby as he was pushing the swinging door to the kitchen open, where he announced, "Hey, Mrs. Plum. What smells so good in here?"

"Robert!" She turned around and beamed at my partner. Then her eyes cut over to Stephanie, as though trying to make a point. "It's so good to see you. Can you help me get the food on the table while it's warm?"

Clearly, if Mrs. Plum were picking a prospective husband for her daughter, my partner was at the top of her list. I guess all that cooking and sucking up he'd done had endeared him in more ways than one.

They got everything set up in a matter of minutes, while I stood behind Stephanie and rubbed her shoulders, easily feeling the tension she was holding there. When we had a brief moment alone, I leaned down and nuzzled the area behind her ear, smiling when she shivered. I'd never met someone as responsive as Stephanie was.

"We've got your back, Beautiful. Whatever you want to tell her, or not tell her, is okay with us. And when dinner is over, we'll go home together so that if things don't end well, we can guarantee that you won't be thinking about it all night long."

"Really?" she questioned in return. "What else would I be doing?"

I growled, low and playful, trying to tell her I didn't appreciate the implication that between me and Bobby, we couldn't keep her sufficiently distracted until she collapsed, too exhausted to think at all.

The door swung open, and I straightened up to avoid suspicion of what was going on.

"It's time to come to the table," Mrs. Plum announced in a nearly sing-songy voice.

Stephanie shook her head. "I swear, every time Bobby is near my mother, it's like she becomes another person."

I grabbed her hand to stop her and said, "Why don't you just tell her that you and Bobby are seeing each other? It would most likely make her happy and keep her off your back for a little while."

She shook her head no, and I could see the stubborn resolve in her eyes. "No way. I'm either telling her everything or nothing at all, but I'm not lying to her or easing her in with half truths, because it makes it seem like I'm embarrassed by what I'm doing or that I'm ashamed of you."

"I don't mind," I tried to tell her, gladly willing to be left out of the discussion if it made it easier on her.

"I do," she looked in my eyes to declare. "I couldn't be with Bobby without you there, too, and if she can't accept that, then she can't accept me."

I squeezed her hand once more before letting it go so that we weren't to blame for the lasagna getting cold. Stephanie took the chair between me and Bobby, leaving me with Mrs. Mazur to my left. I would have objected, but I knew she'd selected her seat on purpose, so I followed her lead and sat down, scooting my chair as far as I could without inhibiting Steph's ability to eat dinner.

"It was so nice of you to join us for dinner," Mrs. Plum began, looking at Bobby and then glancing at Stephanie briefly.

"Mom," Steph complained, obviously wishing she could have at least eaten a little bit before she had to face this topic.

"I'm just trying to make him feel welcome," she replied, as though she always behaved this way. "I want Robert to know he can make himself at home with our family."

"What about Lester?" Stephanie challenged, obviously confusing her mother.

Mrs. Plum looked at me and back to Stephanie, before trying to cover her lack of an immediate response by saying, "Of course. Any friend of Robert's is welcome as well."

I picked up my glass of water to cover my grin at the fact that Mrs. Plum's world was about to get turned up on end. "Thank you, Mrs. Plum. That's very kind of you," I replied, still hiding behind my glass.

Steph looked at me as though I'd lost my mind, before turning to stare at her mother.

That glare only spurred her on, as Mrs. Plum then asked, "Robert, how do you feel about marriage?"

Bobby set his fork down and wiped his mouth carefully with the napkin he pulled out of his lap. "I think for the right couple, it is a beautiful and worthwhile commitment."

That was a politically correct way of wording it that Mrs. Plum clearly took the way she wanted to hear it. "You see, Stephanie,"—she motioned toward Bobby—"I'm not the only one who sees marriage as the right next step for you."

"Whoa..." Bobby put his hands up to get the attention back on him. "I said for the right couple, it was a good thing, but if the people involved aren't interested in marriage, it could ruin their lives. I don't see it as being the right thing for every person, and for some people, I think it should be avoided at all costs."

Mrs. Plum blinked a few times rapidly, as though the words Bobby had spoken were in another language and she was waiting for a translator to finish clarifying what had been said.

"Mom," Steph spoke up before the blank expression had settled on her mother's face, "I don't want to get married, but I don't want to be alone." Then she looked at Bobby and me in turn, before facing her mother once more. "In fact, I am in a relationship now."

That snapped her mother out of her stupor, "Well, why didn't you say so?" Then she looked at Bobby and said, "How long have you two been seeing each other?"

Steph answered before Bobby had to. "Officially, only about two weeks, but if you count the friendship that lead into the relationship, too, then a couple of months."

The smile that lit up her mom's face at that admission would have made me stop talking, but this was Stephanie, not me, and she was definitely not done. "Mom," she said, trying to get her attention once more. "I'm dating Bobby—"

Her mother nodded, having already made that leap in logic.

Then Stephanie looked at me and added, "—and Lester."

The blinking started again on her mother's face. Enough silence passed that I started to worry about Mrs. Plum's well being, and Stephanie felt the need to speak once more.

"They have been a couple for several years, and the three of us have decided that we would be happiest if we were involved together."

"I don't understand," he mother said after finally finding her voice, before pointing at me and asking, "You're gay?"

"No," I clarified. "I don't like classifying things like that. I'm not attracted to only one gender."

Then she moved to Bobby and said, "But you cooked in my kitchen so that you could take care of Stephanie." It wasn't a question, but she clearly still expected a response.

"And that's exactly what I did, ma'am, I went home and took care of the woman my partner and I are in love with," he tried explaining softly.

"But you're already seeing him." She looked my way again. "Were you trying them both out so you could pick the one you liked the best?"

"Mom!" Stephanie didn't care for that analogy; neither did I, but she beat me to a response. "It isn't like that. I know this is different and most people wouldn't understand it, so we aren't going around advertising that the three of us are in a relationship, because everybody will assume it's just a phase or some kind of sexual perversion."

Hearing her use a phrase with the word sex in it reminded me that we had yet to cross that particular threshold with her yet. I wondered how long it would take Mrs. Plum to either accept this or explode over it so that we could take our girl home.

"But Stephanie, how can you be involved with two men?" her mother asked. Surprisingly, she wasn't shouting. Her voice had an element of quiet desperation to it.

"I don't have all the details worked out yet, but so far it's been easy…natural for us to be together. There's always someone around when I need them, and because they have each other, too, all the pressure to meet every need they have isn't solely on my shoulders. They are wonderful men, but because of what they've been through, they need each other, and I am the woman fortunate enough to be the only one they want with them. I'm never going to be a 'Burg housewife, so is the fact that I'm dating two men instead of one really that much bigger of a deal than that?"

Steph was really adept at turning the tables in her favor. Her dad sat up, as though he'd just gotten the gist of what we'd been discussing, and asked, "Do you have your own place to live?"

"We live in the building where we work, and we have money set aside in case we ever decided to buy a home of our own," Bobby replied calmly.

Mr. Plum tilted his head as though that answer were good enough for him and then looked back down at his plate and continued eating. Damn, I never thought I'd see the day when getting a father's permission to date his daughter would be so stress-free. Especially considering the kind of dating we were proposing to a lifetime Catholic Italian living in the 'Burg.

"I think it's a great idea," Mrs. Mazur exclaimed from my left. "My granddaughter has two men to keep her satisfied, which means she'll never get bored."

Mrs. Plum jumped in again before the old lady beside me could go any further with that thought. "You're serious? You're going to be involved with two men at the same time…together?"

I decided I needed to at least try and help this conversation along. "Mrs. Plum, we love your daughter very much. There is nothing in the world we wouldn't do for her. I know this is different from what you imagined for Stephanie, but I assure you that we aren't going anywhere. We will stop at nothing to ensure that she's happy, and isn't that exactly what you always wanted for her?"

"Yes, but I didn't imagine that it would take two of you to provide it," she replied honestly.

"She does tend to get into trouble more often than the average person," Mrs. Mazur pointed out with a smile. "And you know how she gets when she can't afford sweets."

Mrs. Plum seemed to be listening to her mother now instead of immediately dismissing what was being said. Then she looked back to Bobby and said, "And the two of you aren't fighting over her or trying to see if the best man will win?"

"No, it's not like that between me and Les," Bobby replied. "We each love spending time with the other and separately with Stephanie, but it doesn't feel right until all three of us are together."

"Is this why you haven't been getting into the news as much lately?" Mrs. Plum asked, clearly not hearing about last week's run in with a skip. "Because you have two men to protect you?"

Stephanie shrugged, not committing one way or the other. "I think it's more because I have two people interested in hearing about what I'm doing. I'm talking about the skips I'm going after with them before I do anything, and they're helping me think through the best way to do my job so that I don't get hurt."

Dinner continued with an occasional question from her mother and Stephanie patiently responding to explain what we had as best she could, considering we were still figuring it out ourselves. Finally, her mother stood up, and I wondered if we'd gotten to the part of the evening where we were asked to leave and never come back.

"Who is ready for dessert?" her mother asked, causing Stephanie's jaw to drop.

With that, Mrs. Plum disappeared into the kitchen and Mrs. Mazur reach across me, trying to touch her granddaughter. "She's coming around; just give her a little more time to understand it. I'm proud of you." She offered a pat on Steph's outstretched hand and then added, "And if you're ever at a loss about what to do with your spare, my door is always open."

I instinctively sat back in my chair, trying to escape the woman looking at me and clicking her dentures.

Mrs. Plum returned with a glass dish containing what I thought was tiramisu, before looking at Bobby and saying, "Robert, will you step into the kitchen and grab a serving spoon for me?"

Bobby looked confused, but instantly stood up to grab the requested item.

"Mom?" Stephanie asked, obviously needing to know what was going on, but not sure how to word the question.

Her mother waved her concern off and replied, "I've always known you were going to do things your own way, and ever since you jumped off the garage, I've prayed that God would send someone to watch over you and keep you from getting yourself killed. Maybe this is his way of saying you required two angels instead of one."

I looked to my right, saw a single tear working down Stephanie's cheek, and knew how much her mother's acceptance meant to her. She was willing to love us regardless of how her family reacted, but having them at least try to understand made it that much sweeter for her.

As her mother began serving the dessert, Stephanie said something to make my heart soar and my pants tighten. "Make mine a little piece, Mom," she requested. "I'm going to be drastically cutting down on my sugar."

Her mother looked up and then between the three of us, before turning slightly red and mumbling, "In that case, it's definitely going to take two angels instead of one."


	23. Tonight Tomorrow and Always

_The characters below are all from JE's creative genius. The scene they're involved in is all because of my overactive imagination and extra long lunch breaks._

_Jenny (JenRar), thank you so much for your amazing work as the beta on this story. _

_Dina (aydinbydin), I hope the cart and horse are in their correct and respective positions. Thanks for your help along the way._

**Chapter 23 – Tonight, Tomorrow and Always**

_Bobby's POV_

I rode back to Haywood with Lester instead of driving Stephanie's tiny car for her like I usually would. I thought it was best to stay by Lester's side in this case, because after that dinner with her family and hearing her stand beside both of us, I wanted nothing more than to get her back to the bedroom and show her just how much it meant to me. I figured it was safer for her to have the distance until we were in a place where us attacking her would be outside of prying eyes.

When we got out of our vehicles in the garage, I went to her side and brushed back some of her lovely hair. "You okay?"

She nodded and then smiled. "Honestly, I thought she took that well enough that I was confused about why I was worried in the first place."

"You need to think about this, Beautiful," Lester spoke up next, proving our minds were in exactly the same place. "We want you with us tonight more than ever, but if you come up to four with us, we are going to make love to you. If you want to wait a little longer, we can definitely accept that, but we're going to need a little time to get ourselves back under control."

She began taking small steps away from us, as though trying to walk away from a dog and attempting to do it in a way that wouldn't show her back to the barking animal. "You mean, if tonight convinced me I'm not ready for both of you yet, then I should either go back to my apartment or head up to five for an hour or two?"

"That's right," he confirmed as we tried to move, following her retreat – not encroaching on her, but not allowing her to put any additional distance between us, either.

She hit the up button on the elevator and smiled shyly. "But if I want to go up to four, then I need to be prepared for the three of us to end up in bed together."

"Not just to end up in bed together," Lester clarified as we stepped into the elevator with her. "But to end up in bed, without clothes, so that Bobby and I can make love to you all night long."

She glanced over at her hand to find the right position and then looked at us while she intentionally pushed the button marked "4".

We rode up in silence as I prayed that no one would stop the ride or appear to say hello to us before we could get her home. Lester stepped out first and unlocked the door before stepping in and holding it open for us to cross through as well. Once we were all inside, he pushed it closed and flipped the lock, pushing on it once more as though impressing on the wood the importance of staying shut. Then he turned around to look at Stephanie.

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" he offered her another out, as I knew we'd both step down if she changed her mind. We'd waited so long already that if she asked for it, we'd do it again, just to prove that she had nothing to fear from us.

Steph held his gaze and nodded yes to his question before reaching up to the top button on her shirt and slowly undoing it.

Les walked over to stand in front of her and put his hands over hers to stop her progress. "I think this time, we want that job, too," he told her so that we could have the experience of slowly undressing her and watching her body be revealed to us one glorious part at the time.

I stepped up behind her and lifted her into my arms, smiling when she squealed from the unexpected movement. I knew she loved being swept off her feet, so I'd tried to do it as much as possible. Her left arm went around my shoulder, as though holding herself up, and her right hand reached out to Les, as though verifying he was still with us.

He took her hand and kissed her fingers, before looking at her and saying, "I'm coming, too."

I decided it wasn't the time to make sophomoric jokes about that and let the easy pun go unsaid.

I decided to lay her down in the center of the bed so that Les and I could take care of what we were wearing before turning our attention to her abundance of clothing. She didn't seem to know where to look when we both pulled our shirts over our heads. And when the buckles on our belts made rattling sounds, the expression on her face told me the fear she'd once held over how this would happen was quickly being replaced by pure desire. And knowing that she wanted us so much that it was winning out over her fear of the unknown was enough to make my hands work twice as fast.

It had been a long time since sex was a slow, sensual event. Lester was a tease of the highest order and was strong and commanding, all of which made our sex lives steady and exciting, but we had both said the softness that Stephanie brought out in us was definitely missing in our bedroom exploits, and I could already see how it had slowed our approach to what was about to happen. The fevered passion that I knew he felt as much as I did was being tempered by the desire to show Stephanie how much she meant to us – and how much it meant that she would share her life and her body with the two of us.

We approached the foot of the bed and each lifted one of her legs just enough to slip off the boot she was wearing. I gave a soft rub to the sock underneath, before reaching up under her pants leg and pulling down the cotton sock to reveal her perfect foot, with crimson painted nails. Lester had mirrored everything I'd done on his side and was crawling up to undo the button and zipper at the top of her jeans. He pulled the denim down, waiting for her to lift her hips slightly. Once he'd cleared the top of her thighs, I took over and pulled the jeans off, tossing them on the floor behind me.

Les was tracing the design on her black panties. Her face was flushed lightly, and her eyes were darker than I'd ever seen them. The pillow was causing her hair to fan out behind her, and she was the perfect definition of what sexy meant.

I crawled up the other side and began to unbutton her shirt, starting at the bottom. Les moved to undo the button above the one I had freed, and we took turns, in no hurry at all, until all seven were open and her torso was revealed.

Her skin was so perfect. It had the occasion scar on it from things she never should have been forced to endure but had proven herself more than strong enough to survive. She was pale and soft, a siren perfectly made to tempt us into doing her will.

We each took a hand and tugged so that she would sit up, allowing us to pull her shirt off and toss it to the growing pile of discarded items on the carpet. Les moved on his knees so that he was behind her. He pushed her hair away from her neck and held the mass of curls to the side so that he had greater access to her neck and that spot behind her ear that he loved to manipulate until she began to make the noises we both enjoyed hearing.

I watched his tongue slowly move up her slender neck, and her eyes fluttered closed before she tilted her head slightly to grant him more access. We had joked about how she could go basically boneless when we were pleasuring her, melting her body into a position that gave us the ability to touch as much of her as possible, and this was the perfect example of that. I heard her draw in a quick breath and then waited for her to release it as a lightly audible sigh. She was relaxed and giving herself to us, and I could no longer sit back as a spectator.

Knowing it would better for all of us if we moved slowly, I began at her feet, thinking she was used to leaning against Lester and having me touch her legs after weeks of sitting on the sofa this way to watch television and movies. I watched her closely for any signs of anxiety or discomfort, but when my hands caressed her foot, her face took on a slight smile.

Encouraged that she was going to accept the things we wanted to do to her, I began to work my way up, hitting the pressure points on the back of her heels and then moving on to her calves, applying just enough force to make the muscles relax, but not enough to hurt. She let out a moan, and Lester's eyes met mine. His mouth continued to work on her neck, but there was a definite spark of a smile on his face.

I could hear Lester's whisper in her ear as he said, "That's right, Beautiful. Let go and let us take care of you."

She nodded, as though she was powerless to do anything else but give herself over to us, and that knowledge made me want to protect her even more fiercely.

Here was a woman – a beautiful woman – who was a unique blend of fighter and defender inside the body of a small impulsive girl, slightly naive about what the world was capable of, and because of that, she was willing to see only the good possible in every situation. It brought out instincts in me I thought only animals in the wild possessed. I wanted to claim her as mine and defend her from any threat. Killing someone who dared to hurt her no longer seemed like a stretch of something I'd do and not think twice about. Hell... If anything, death would be too easy a punishment for anyone who laid a hand on Stephanie.

I wanted to keep her from ever being faced with the true extent of what humanity's evil would allow it to do, not only to protect her innocence, but to keep her from ever realizing the part I had played to combat it. To truly eliminate evil, you have think as your opponent does, and if you do that enough, it tarnishes your soul. I knew the darkness in me, and a small part of my brain was disgusted that I would even think of touching Stephanie and risk tainting her. But I knew I was powerless to stop myself. I couldn't turn away from her. The way she lit up when she looked at me, the way she trusted me implicitly called to my core, and I could refuse her nothing.

This was my woman, shared with the only other being on Earth that I thought truly understood me because he'd walked the same path I had. I only trusted myself to be this close to her because Lester was with me. If I were attempting this alone, I'd have to hold back and second guess every move I made, but I knew I could depend on my partner to keep me from crossing the line, and I could feel the trust he had in me to do the same for him. Separately, we were not worthy of being with her, but together, we could be the men she deserved. I knew the logic was twisted, and to most people in society, it was completely invalid, but in my heart and in this bedroom, I knew it was right.

While I'd been lost in my thoughts, Lester had let go of Stephanie's hair and allowed his hands to travel down her neck, across her shoulders, and to her sides. I knew he was getting her accustomed to touch so that she wouldn't flinch or pull away, feeling ticklish later. I decided I'd spent enough time below her knees and began to inch my way up her thighs, rubbing the muscles and trying to touch every inch of her legs. I knew there were men out there who fixated on just one part of a woman. And while I didn't throw myself into that category – I was definitely looking forward to getting very acquainted with her entire body at some point – I still recognized that I had a thing for legs...hers, in particular. Their definition and the way she worked them in those short skirts and high heels. A man could lose himself, wanting to explore those legs and the area where they met at the top.

I forced my hands to stay at the outside of her thighs as I approached the top. I didn't want this to be over too soon, and if I got anywhere close to that magic spot, I'd lose myself there. Instead, I worked up to her hips, continuing to touch and rub away any tension or resistance that might be present.

My hands brushed Lester's as he had been working down her sides to her hips. We looked at each other, and I knew he was feeling the same way I was. This was right – for us, for her; it was the way it was meant to be. I lifted my right hand to squeeze Lester's left one, drawing out the moment between us.

I knew she was ready for us to do more than just caress her, so I moved between her legs, instead of kneeling beside them, and I spread her open just enough for me to reposition to be closer to her face. I braced myself on either side of her body with my fists on the mattress, and then leaned in so that my lips were just above hers.

"Baby," I said softly, not wanting to scare her that I was so close. "Les is going to lay back, and I want you to rest on him, all right?"

Usually when Les and I came together, it was power on power, force against strength. Occasionally, one of us would take an actual lead – me more often than him – and those tended to be particularly memorable nights. I felt like someone needed to take control here, and I got the impression that Lester was holding back, waiting for me to do that, and my body was telling me the time was right.

Her eyes never opened, and when Lester maneuvered so that he was leaning against the pillows alongside the headboard, she moved right down with him, her back against his chest. I ran my hands under the backs of her legs, moving up until her ass was cradled in my forearms, and then I lifted her up and set her on Lester so that her back wasn't being bent over his pelvis and her bottom was off the mattress completely.

Lester's hands went to her hips to hold her in place. I picked up each of her legs and hung them over Lester's thighs, opening her completely in front of me, and then I sat back, giving myself a moment to appreciate the scene in front of me. She was still in her bra and panties, her pale skin covered by the black color of the silk that had a gold rope design on it, giving the appearance that she was a gift all tied up, waiting to be opened...and I was definitely ready to open her now.

I put my hands on top of Lester's, encouraging him to move up with her skin under his fingers. I moved him until his palms were just under her chest and then squeezed him lightly before taking my hands away, hoping he understood that I wanted him to touch her now on his own.

I sat down on the backs of my heels and watched as Lester looked at me while moving his hands on his own before lifting them up and cupping her breasts. As soon as he squeezed her softly, her lips parted, and I had to look away for a moment to reign in the overwhelming feelings of how amazing it felt to be with someone who trusted you this much that she was literally surrendering to our will.

Lester smoothly moved so that he could undo the clasp on her bra that was located in the front. He pulled the cups off so that I had a perfect view of her breasts. Les had pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, and I knew he was biting down to keep himself under control, an urge I was battling as well.

Another benefit of the way she was spread out over Lester was that it combined my two favorite things into one buffet. Lester's erection was standing tall and proud between her legs, and I knew that anything I did to pleasure Stephanie would end up teasing him, as well. That thought was all it took to get me moving once more.

I placed my hands back on her thighs to get her used to being touched by four hands at once. Moving them out to her hips, I made small circles, moving them closer together, until I was brushing the top of her panties. I had just gone through the trouble of positioning her and hated the idea of pulling her legs together again so that I could move the silk down, so I decided that I'd just have to be in her debt for another pair. Grabbing the thin band on either side, I pulled until I heard the fabric tear. I pulled the pieces away and tossed them on the floor before coming back to look at her once more.

Damn, I never realized how turned on I could get just from looking at someone. Admittedly, Lester and I never took the time to examine each other; we tended to be more about getting down to business when we were together. But looking at her now, I realized our haste had allowed us to miss something incredible: the flushed look to her face, the open mouth that she occasionally allowed her tongue to venture out to moisten her lips, and the swell of her breasts with Lester's darker skin on top, all leading to her narrow waist and her rounded hips with the small, carefully manicured patch of curls basically marking the X on the map of where she was hiding her treasure.

I kicked my legs from under me so that I could lie on my stomach on the bed, between their legs. Holding myself up on my elbows, her center was at the perfect height for me to lean forward and kiss. At first, I put my lips just outside her core and placed slow, lingering kisses all around. Her hips lifted as she tried to move so that my mouth would be where she wanted me. Les moved one hand down and held her hips in place, foiling her attempt to rush what I was doing.

I smiled when she made a soft noise of disagreement at that. Still, I knew we had all night and there was no reason to be cruel by dragging this out too long the first time, so I gave in to what she was asking for and ran my tongue across the hot area between her legs. She let out a low sound, obviously liking the sensation, which only encouraged me to do it again.

Even from just the outer edge, I could taste the liquid her body was making in response to us. I had no idea a body could taste like this. I was reminded of the ocean – salty, warm, wet, and irresistible. On my next pass, I used my hand to open her lips so that I had better access to her bundle of nerves, and I pressed more firmly with my tongue, loving the counter pressure she provided by jerking her hips forward, out of Lester's grip and to my mouth. She needed more, and I was more than willing to provide it.

I dropped my chin and passed by her opening, pushing my tongue inside, hearing her whisper, "More."

Damn, my dick was going to cut a hole in the mattress if she said anything else like that. I didn't think I could get any harder, but the moan she gave me next told me just how wrong I was. I continued to tease her, using my tongue, my fingers, and gently grazing her with my teeth until she called my name.

"Bobby, please."

"Please what, Baby?" I asked, wanting to know how I could make this even better for her. My mind was focused on nothing but her and my weak attempts to hold myself back until I knew she was satisfied.

"I need you," she said, sounding breathless and desperate.

"Bobby," Lester echoed with enough gravel in his voice to show he was just as affected as she was. "Don't make her wait." He was obviously struggling to hang on, too, and hearing him plead with me to give her more forced me up on my knees.

"All right," I replied to them both, moving so that my cock was rubbing against Lester's, which was in turn, pressing against her. There were a number of noises that broke free then, but I couldn't say with certainty who made them, except that I was pretty sure one came from me.

I knew she was on a regular contraceptive, having investigated that fact under the guise of needing to have her complete medical history in order to properly advocate for her should she ever be injured, and that the little snips Les and I had endured a few years back made birth control a mute point. But more than that, I knew that we were all clean and that we didn't have to pause and put on protection, which just had my dick throbbing for me to stop thinking and start thrusting.

I pulled back and spread the moisture her body was providing, being sure that Lester was just as wet as I was. I briefly worried that he was going to cut through his lip if he bit down any harder, but my mind wasn't capable of hanging on to that thought.

Lining up so that I was poised at her opening, I paused, taking a few breaths to get myself ready for the heaven I knew this was about to be.

"Please," Stephanie pleaded once more, making my hips push forward in response.

She drew in a breath, and I moved as slowly as possible, trying to commit this experience and this feeling to memory. I didn't stop until my hips were flush against hers, with my legs touching Lester's, trapping his head between my pelvis and Stephanie's. I looked at him to be sure he was okay, but his eyes closed, so I knew he was fine.

I wanted to give her a moment to adjust to having me inside, but Lester moved his hips, as though begging for me to keep going, and I knew I couldn't deny what he was asking for. Slowly, I pulled back and then thrust back in more forcefully, pinning Lester between us once more.

"Ah, Bobby," Lester called out in that place where it was almost an agony to be this close to pleasure, but unable to be get yourself any further.

I recognized his position, because I was there with him. I wished I could take this slow, but it was becoming too overwhelming too fast and I couldn't hold back anymore. I tried to remember this was our girl between us and not slam into her the same way I would Lester. Tonight was only about pleasure – a chance to show her with our bodies the things we didn't have words for.

All too soon, my body began to remind me how overwhelming the feeling was surrounded by her lush hot tight body, and I looked to see her brow furrowing, probably struggling to hold back, too. I heard her repeating my name, occasionally throwing Lester's in, as well, and I realized that we had done it. We had brought Stephanie into our bed, and it was beautiful, and erotic, and incredible. She clearly loved this, as there wasn't an ounce of tension between us, other than the struggle to hang on so that this first time would be a truly shared experience.

Lester's hands were working on her breasts, alternating between cupping them and then pulling back to use his fingers to tease her pert nipples. She responded to everything, arching her back on Les to give him better access, moaning, pleading, and meeting my movements with ones of her own. I had just enough cognitive ability to note that the way she enjoyed food was nothing compared to the way she gave herself into the enjoyment of sex. I realized I now had an addiction, because after making love to her only once, I knew I'd be looking for the time when I could do this again, always desperate to experience Stephanie in our bed once more.

A grunt from my partner and that bottom lip going back between his teeth brought me back to the present, and I knew I couldn't hold back any longer. Still, I was determined to bring us together, so I worked a hand between our legs and cupped Lester's balls, knowing he loved having his boys gripped just before he shot off. I doubt he was expecting me to do that, as was evidenced by his literal shout of my name and a string of expletives.

Stephanie's hand gripped my other arm, and her fingernails dug into my skin. I secretly hoped she'd broken the skin. I wanted something to mark me in a way that made this night a permanent part of me. I felt her muscles tightening down, and in turn, I tightened my grip on Lester, thrusting into Stephanie only twice more before my body shut down and my eyes closed while a release like nothing I'd ever experienced came over me. I swear it felt like I was coming from my toes as the orgasm washed over me in waves, lasting longer than anything I'd ever thought possible.

Stephanie milked every drop my body had to give, and the shallow thrusts I continued to draw out both our reactions revealed a stickiness between us that meant Lester had been just as affected as we were. For several long moments, the only sound in the room was our labored breathing and an occasional sigh or hum of pleasure when a new wave of sensation would pass over someone.

Finally, I felt that I had to break the connection and change my position. So I pulled out of her just as slowly as I'd first entered, and she made a sound of mourning the loss of our connection, which made my chest tighten. Not only had she opened her heart to us, but she didn't want the physical bond to end, either. She fully accepted us and wanted us not only near her, but inside her, as well.

We took a little time to process what just happened, realizing that sex changed relationships but recognizing that what we'd just shared wasn't just sex. It had permanently linked us in ways we wanted, but hadn't known were possible.

I collapsed beside them, throwing my arm over Stephanie's waist and pressing my leg against Lester's to keep the physical connection going. Slow, lazy touches were shared between us all, as though needing to keep the contact and feeling the need to reassure ourselves that we were all still together and that hadn't been just a dream.

I knew we weren't done. There were hours and hours left to this night, and there were still plenty of experiences for us to share and explore together, but no one seemed ready to move or disturb the moment.

I was sure a lot of people on the street would judge us as freaks or assume that because there were three of us in this bed that we were somehow hurting the woman between us, and while I hated that there were narrow-minded people out there that would judge us, I realized I didn't really give a shit what they thought.

Nothing had ever felt more real to me than this moment. My past wasn't threatening to re-emerge, and when Steph's head turned to see me and her face lit up with love, I knew that when we were together, I never needed to fear judgment in this place, either. I wasn't a fool... I knew at some point, a hurtful word would be said that would threaten to break up what we'd begun building tonight, but I was filled with a confidence I hadn't thought possible before. This was solid – real – and we could make this work so that we were all happy and supported.

Before I could think any further, Lester spoke up. "That was amazing."

My body recognized the tone of his voice and began to respond immediately.

Stephanie made a humming sound that said she agreed.

Again, he said, "That was so much more than I thought it could be."

Another agreeing sound came out of the woman lying on top of my partner.

"That was something we have to do again," he ventured before adding, "…now."

The corners of her mouth turned up, and she made another sound of assent.

I pulled Stephanie off of Lester and cuddled her against my chest instead, freeing Lester to move at will.

I watched his eyes dilate, and I smiled. This was real, we were together, and we would make this work so that we were happy and supported – tonight, tomorrow, and always.


	24. The Morning After

_Standard disclaimer applies…JE gets all the credit._

_Jenny (JenRar) thank you so much for your tremendous talent as the beta on this story._

_Dina (aydinbydin) thank you so much for being the idea bouncer and chief motivator for this story._

**Chapter 24 – The Morning After**

_Stephanie's POV_

I woke up slowly, my brain seeming to come back on board with images from the night before. Scenes of being between Lester and Bobby, with one of them holding me and loving me with their touch and their words and the other using their body and loving me with their actions and their gaze. I couldn't believe I'd been afraid of what it would be like to be in bed with two guys. I certainly hadn't expected it to be so tender and gentle. I wasn't crazy; I knew they were holding back some and taking it easy on me the first time we were together, but still... Knowing it could be like that, I knew that when they wanted to try new things, ways that we could be even more connected when we made love, that I trusted them enough now to go along with anything they wanted to try.

I let myself replay some of my favorite moments from the hours we'd spent together and then figured that my body had awaked enough to stretch slightly. As I went through my waking cat routine, I felt the soreness in various parts of my body. My legs were uncomfortable, probably from the amount of time they were stretched wide, or maybe it was from that next to last round where Lester hooked them over his shoulders and turned me into a pretzel. Of course, there was no denying the tenderness between my legs. Despite their attempts to be gentle, that much time together was going to leave me a little, well, for lack of a better word, raw.

Then a smile came over my face as I remembered Bobby telling Lester we had to stop last night. _"We wanted to show her how good it could be to have us both loving her, but we don't want to love her death on the first night. We've got a lifetime to make our point." _

I finished my stretch by fanning my fingers out and thought it was strange that my hands were sore. I guess all the time I'd spent gripping the sheets or my boys did have my hands tensed up for long periods. I stopped moving and took stock of my overall state, realizing I felt like jello. I had enough form to keep my shape, but I was convinced if I tried to stand up right now, I'd do more wiggling and wobbling than actual walking. Of course, Mother Nature decided to ruin my fuzzy state by reminding me that I was going to have to move soon.

So I reluctantly opened my eyes and was hit with the bright sunshine streaming in through the bedroom window. I tilted my head to see the clock and was shocked that it was already eleven. I was an hour away from missing the entire morning. Now that I knew that, my body was even more insistent on me getting up and moving the fifteen feet to the bathroom.

I tried to hold back a groan when I sat up and realized the things that were sore when I was stretching were nothing compared to how it felt now that I was actually using the muscles. My attempt to walk wasn't my most graceful, and I smiled at the idea that I'd gone from a young sexual woman of the night to a bent over old hag in the morning. It was like some sort of Disney cursed princess kind of switch. I wasn't sure how I was going to manage it, but I hoped that by the time the moon rose again, I could switch back to the little hottie I'd been last night. She was a lot more fun. I looked in the mirror and shrieked at my appearance.

The hottie from last night was probably a lot better looking, too. This was frightening. I had several marks on my lower neck and the tops of my shoulders, although when I thought about it, most of them could be covered with a simple button up shirt. My nipples were darker than I remembered them ever being, so I figured all the attention they'd gotten last night probably had something to do with that. Who knew Lester; the guy involved in a gay relationship for years, was such a tit man?

I looked down at the rest of me and saw a few marks here and there. The ones on the top of my legs were no doubt Bobby's handiwork. If Lester was all about boobs, then Bobby was definitely a leg man. I didn't know my legs were such an erogenous zone, but when Bobby massaged them and then rested his face where my legs and hips came together, I could feel myself getting worked up. Realizing these kinds of thoughts, while fun, were doing nothing to tame the wild hair flying out in every direction, I turned on the shower and began to get ready to rejoin the land of the living.

I took a long shower, but got out before the hot water ran out simply because my legs didn't feel like they could hold me any longer. When I stepped out, I saw a cardboard box on the floor that had my name on it. I tried to think back to when I first came in and thought it might have been there then, as well, I just hadn't noticed it in my foggy state. I glanced inside while holding my towel together, as though there could be a camera in there that would get a free show if I didn't keep everything covered.

There was a note from Bobby that said, _I ran by your place and picked up a few things I'd seen you use so that you would be comfortable this morning. I didn't go snooping, but I knew you'd be tired today and thought a few familiar things would help. X Bobby_.

I stood there grinning like a school girl at the note and what he had done for me. I had a feeling they were pretty tired this morning, too, but obviously they weren't so tired that they couldn't think about me. I pulled out some of Mr. Alexander's miracle gel and began working it through my hair with a wide toothed comb while thinking how strange my life was.

I guess from the outside, people would say that it was unusual because I was in a relationship with two guys. I was still struggling to wrap my head around that fact. I'd gone from thinking nobody really wanted me, to having two guys so totally devoted to me that they were picking up boxes of cosmetics and hair care products just to make me happy.

Even last night, there'd never been a feeling of score keeping or jealousy between them. They had some kind of silent communication thing so that I didn't know what was going to happen next, but they never seemed to have to discuss it. It just flowed so naturally. Hell, being in the same room as Joe and Ranger always made me feel the need to keep an emergency exit in sight at all times, but there was no competing or complaining between them. And despite what I'd been brought up to believe, it just felt so natural.

They say a woman's greatest sexual organ is her brain and for her to truly enjoy what is happening, she has to completely relax so that her mind can be only in the moment. I'd always struggled with that in the past. It wasn't like I was mentally making up a grocery list – well, not usually – but I was often slightly distracted. I had to remember to suck in my stomach if I were on top or to keep my shoulders back so my boobs would look bigger or perkier when I was on my back. And when Joe went a little overboard trying to make the night mindblowing for me, it often became too much and I either had to fake it to a quick end or pretend I was so far gone that I had to have him in me right then in order to get him to leave me alone.

I knew making comparisons wasn't fair to anyone, but I had to get my mind around why last night had been so wonderful, and my limited frame of reference probably wasn't helping. I had assumed having two of them in bed with me would make me twice as self conscious, but that hadn't been the case.

There was something about being able to maintain that constant contact with one or the other that helped to keep me from drifting in my thoughts. When Bobby was doing those sinful things between my legs, I could feel Lester's body behind mine and his hands on me, keeping me from feeling so exposed. I knew they'd each taken their time in looking at my body, but having the other one holding me when it was happening had given me the courage to open myself to it instead of wanting to cover up.

I applied a little lip gloss, wondering if it was possible that my lips were swollen from all the kisses we'd shared, and then had a new thought. It seemed the whole night had been about me. They'd pleasured me separately, together, taking turns, sharing turns, in every way I could handle, but never had I taken the initiative and returned the favor, nor had it seemed to be expected. If anything, I got the feeling if I'd tried to turn the tables on them, they would have fought it, because they'd seemed to be really into what they were doing. I wouldn't want it to be that way every time, because I was looking forward to exploring the bodies that I'd been sandwiched between, but last night, at least, I'd needed them to lead and having them do so in such a smooth way had kept any awkwardness from ever creeping in to what we shared. Hell, I didn't realize guys could be that selfless. I mean, I knew they had enjoyed themselves, too, but they'd been the ones doing all the heavy lifting.

I screamed a little when a voice from the doorway said, "Then it's a good thing we've got so many muscles, isn't it?"

"Jeez, Lester, you nearly scared me to death," I told him in a tone that sounded like I was scolding a puppy.

He came over and hugged me, holding me to him as though he wanted to feel that connection again. Of course, I was all for being held by my boys, so I melted against him and shut my eyes.

"I knew you were in the bathroom, so I was waiting on the bed for you to come out, but then you started talking. I didn't mean to listen in, but I could hear you, and I loved what you were saying, so I moved closer to be sure I got it all. That last sentence was too much to resist," he explained.

I knew my face had instantly turned warning sign red, but I had to know. "How much did you hear?" I couldn't believe I'd been talking out loud that whole time.

I felt his chest move but never actually heard him laugh. "I got that you liked being between us and that you were glad, at least the first time, that we took the lead and that it was never awkward or uncomfortable for you. And then you threw in some kind of understatement of the year, which is why I had to interrupt you and set the record straight. We didn't just enjoy ourselves... You freaking blew our minds, and we absolutely couldn't stop touching you. I think if you'd tried to do much to us, just the thought of it would have blown our control, and it would have been over before it started, which would have been a shame. We're going to need a little time to work up to that in order to really enjoy it. Right now, it still feels like such a miracle that you're with us that we need to keep touching you to believe it's true."

I'd heard everything he said, but I decided to just pick one phrase to repeat. "I blew _your_ minds?"

Les pulled back enough to see my face, but didn't let me go. "Yeah, Beautiful, you did. We'd never had a night like that, and quite frankly, we didn't think it was possible."

"What was different?" I asked, not trying to be nosy, but needing to know if the things they were struggling with were the same as mine.

"For one thing, even for us, that was a long time to have sex. I didn't know the body was capable of going that long, but every time you moved or moaned, our dicks responded and stood up like the good soldiers they are," he began with a grin.

My hips automatically pressed against him, and I could have sworn just that small movement was enough to make his zipper feel like it was protruding from his cargos more than it had been.

"Yeah," he said in a low voice, "Just like that, Beautiful." Then he shook his head and said, "But it was more than that. It wasn't about getting off; it was…hell, I don't know how to say it, but it was so much more than I'd ever dreamed."

Even though he hadn't been able to put it to words, I still got exactly what he was saying. I rested my check on his shoulder and just stood there for a minute, absorbing the feeling of having someone who was content to hold me without expecting more.

Finally, he pulled back and said, "Now, don't even try to deny it. You've got to be sore this morning, so I'm here to show you that Bobby's not the only one that knows how to give a massage."

"Huh?" I eloquently responded.

"Come on." He stepped back and took my hand. "You can put on one of my t-shirts and stretch out on the bed."

I did love wearing Lester's shirts. I couldn't figure out why they were so much softer than mine, and they were huge on me, even though they always seemed so snug across his chest, so I felt like I was being enveloped by Lester when I wore his clothes. He grabbed a gray shirt and put it over my head, tugging my towel off once the tee was in place. I pulled on the bottom, despite it being long enough to cover everything important, more out of a nervous habit than real need.

Les put his hands on my shoulders, spun me around to face the bed, and said, "On your stomach, head on your hands to begin with."

I followed his directions but asked, "Are you supposed to be working right now?"

"I've been up since oh five hundred, and it's noon now, so technically, this is my lunch break. Then I've only got a few things to do this afternoon, but I'll be done by sixteen hundred hours," he replied, always willing to give me any details I asked about.

I did the mental math myself to know he'd be finished at four o'clock, because I was too lazy to turn over and ask him for real time instead of the military stuff they always used. But the moment his hands landed on my legs, I wasn't able to remember my own name, much less what time he'd be coming home.

I could tell he was using some kind of lotion or oil, and there was the softest hind of lavender to it, but other than that, I just shut my eyes and let him rub the soreness from my muscles. Despite him being one of the hottest men I'd ever met, there wasn't anything overly sexual about what he was doing now. Sure, the tenderness he used when touching me was there, and he was going over parts of my body he'd used to drive me crazy last night, but the intent was different. He was trying to care for me in his own way, and he knew that every need wasn't somehow related to sex.

Soft laughter behind me made the question "What's so funny?" pop out.

"I didn't catch all that," he started, pointing out my rambling had been mumbled, at least in part, "but if I'm guessing the intent correctly, I guess its relation to sex is more in how you define when sex starts." He paused to let me consider that mystery for a second.

"You see, there are some people who believe sex starts when the lights go out and you start taking off your clothes," he began.

"But you don't?" I wondered when else it could begin.

"Not really," he replied casually, as though we were talking about the weather and not hot, steamy sex. "I think it begins when you wake up. If I want to make love to you at night, then I need to be sure I'm loving you through the whole day. Why should you let us take care of your sexual needs if you can't depend on us to meet your other needs, as well?"

That was an excellent question.

"So when I pick up your favorite breakfast food so that you can enjoy the most important meal of the day, that's part of making love to you," he explained, totally blowing my conceptions about sex out of the water.

"And when you give me a massage and turn me into a puddle of goo?" I asked, loving the way the heel of his hand was pushing into my lower back.

"That's all part of it, too," he replied. "You can relax into this now, because you know it's not going to turn into sex right this moment, but there's a part of you that recognizes it's all tied together. You'll feel my hands on you even after I go back to work, and you'll think about me touching you until you want me to touch you again. And when I come back home tonight, I'll be touching you more."

"So I need to brace myself when four o'clock rolls around?" I joked, surprised that he didn't laugh.

"No, you need to relax when four o'clock comes, because I'll be back and I'll want to reconnect by hugging you like I did in the bathroom or by running my fingers through your hair. I'll want to touch you while we talk about our days, and I'll want to feel you touch me. If we only show our love to each other when we're having sex, then that act becomes the only way we open up, which I can't handle," he explained.

I let his words sink in for a minute and realized he was probably one of the smartest people I knew when it came to relationships. Hell, I was the girl here; I was supposed to be the one spouting all this shit. "Where did you learn this stuff?" I blurted out.

"I've had a long time to think about what makes a relationship work," he said, as though he'd climbed a high mountain and sat at the foot of a wise sage. Then he tagged on, "Plus, I read Cosmo, so I'm well rounded."

That last bit did me in, and I busted out laughing.

When his phone rang, I pulled myself back together while Lester took his hands away and answered it, still straddling my legs so that I had to stay in my position lying down.

"Yo."

The RangeMan eloquence never ceased to amaze me.

"Yeah, she's up, and I just finished giving her a rub down."

There was a pause, where I figured Bobby must be talking, since I didn't figure Lester would have told anyone else what he'd been doing.

He let one hand return to rest on the side of my hip and traced some random shapes there while he and Bobby talked. Finally, he squeezed my hip and jumped down, promising to be sure I ate before he left, and then he hung up.

"Come on, Beautiful," Les announced as he stood. "Bobby is in a tizzy that it's been over sixteen hours since you had anything to eat."

Now that he mentioned it, I was pretty hungry. "Wait," I called out when he tried to pull me into the hall. "I need pants."

That playful grin I'd always loved on his face reappeared as he let his eyes linger on my body before saying, "Not for me, you don't."

I pulled my hand free from his grasp and stepped back into the bedroom, wondering if Bobby had gotten any clothes while he was packing up my bathroom. Sitting on the floor in front of the dresser was a duffle bag I recognized as being mine. I'd gotten it as a free promotional gift when I'd been shopping at the make-up counter at Macy's, and I knew the guys wouldn't use a bright pink bag for their own clothes. When I looked inside, he'd done a good job packing. There were a few pair of panties – definitely not from the more practical side of my lingerie drawer, but still, it was better than nothing. While my rear end was in the air so that I could pull the little blue number up, I heard Lester groan from the doorway. I probably should have worked faster, but I decided to toy with him instead and used one hand to pull the t-shirt up so that he had a view of my entire uncovered backside while I slowly pulled the panties up my legs, shifting them a little to wiggle my ass at my audience.

"I'll be in the kitchen," Lester announced, his voice cracking up on the last word.

I put my hand over my mouth to keep from laughing. I'd had no idea how much fun it would be to toy with my boys, but now that I'd seen I could get the upper hand, I had a feeling I was going to be looking for new opportunities to try it out some more.

I found a pair of my favorite yoga pants and slipped those on quickly since my spectator was gone and then walked out, still barefoot, to see Lester chugging a bottle of cold water in front of the sink. He finished the bottle before tossing it in the recycle bin and then turned to hold up a box of Frosted Cheerios.

"Frosted?" I questioned, wondering how that was on Bobby's "approved foods for Stephanie" list.

"I figured you deserved a treat for all that we put you through last night," he said with a twinkle in his eye. "Besides, there isn't that much more sugar in these than in some of the granola we eat, and this does have the whole grains he's so into. So I think you're safe keeping these in the cupboard."

I let him pour me a bowl and douse it with milk before handing it to me. While he was making breakfast, I realized just how hungry I was, and by the time he handed the bowl over, my hand was beginning to shake. Of course, he noticed, not that I could slip something like that past any of the guys here, so he took the bowl back and fed me a few bites before setting it down to pour me a glass of orange juice while I chewed

"We're going to have to figure out how to get some protein in you on nights when we wear you out so much that you miss breakfast," he announced, more to himself than to me.

"I don't mind," I said, feeling like the juice had done wonders so that I could handle the bowl on my own now. "Besides, it would be kind of strange to stop in the middle of things and take a late night snack break."

The furrow on his brow told me my words hadn't made a difference. He was still in his problem solver mode. I wasn't sure if I should feel nervous or relieved when the concentration left and a wicked little smile replaced it.

He nodded, as though confirming in his own mind that he'd planned out something good, and then turned to me and asked, "What's on your plate for today?"

I hadn't really thought it through yet, but I supposed the day was still young enough I could venture out and do something. The massage had done wonders for my stiff muscles, but I still didn't feel like running down any skips. "Maybe I'll swing by Vinnie's and see if Connie has any files for me. I'm out of skips, and rent will be coming up in another week or so."

"You need some back up?" he asked, moving closer to volunteer for that position if necessary.

"Nah," I declined quickly. "I don't think I'll go after anybody today unless one of my regulars is up. If I get someone new, I'll bring it back here and look them up to come up with a plan for later in the week."

That answer earned me a big smile. He moved to stand between my legs, forcing me to set my cereal bowl down so we didn't spill the milk.

"You're going to make my breakfast get all soggy," I pretended to complain.

He leaned forward, obviously enjoying the challenge of wearing my weak resistance down. "Then pour it out and get some fresh cereal," he countered, before placing his lips on my forehead and giving me a series of soft kisses.

"I don't want to waste food," my weak argument continued.

"You aren't," he responded. "I'm the one making you waste it, so your conscience is clear." Then his lips moved to hover over my ear so that the warmth of his breath was present.

"Still…" I wanted to say something witty to keep the banter going, but his tongue slipped out and traced the shell of my ear, short circuiting my brain.

"Damn, man, we promised we wouldn't do anything today to give her body a chance to recover from last night," Bobby said, pretending to be annoyed, but the grin on his face defeated his attempt.

I'd been so distracted by what Lester's tongue had been doing that I hadn't heard Bobby come in. Of course the fact that Lester seemed as surprised to see Bobby as me, made me smile that one of my guys had been as unaware of his surroundings as I was.

My hand lifted and reached out for Bobby instinctively, bidding him to come closer so I could touch him. It seemed strange for me, a girl who didn't consider herself very touchy feely, to not be capable of being around my boys without putting my hands on them.

For his part, Bobby responded immediately, walking over to take my hand in his and reaching around Lester's body to place a kiss on my lips. He ran his free hand over Lester's shoulder, and I smiled at the contact between them, getting that familiar warmth in me whenever I saw them do something sweet like that.

It was quiet a little too long, so I said, "I'm glad you're here, Bobby, so you can tell Lester that I have to eat my breakfast and he should quit interrupting me."

Bobby laughed, and Lester looked hurt, so I knew they'd both picked up on the fact that I was joking.

"Man, I'm losing out to a bowl of Cheerios," Les announced while backing up and putting his hands over his heart. "If this is the way I'm going to be treated, then I'm heading back to work, where my presence will be appreciated."

I jumped down from my spot on the counter and threw myself at Lester, kissing him for all I was worth. When I pulled back, he looked stunned, which just made it that much more fun for me. "You'd never lose to a bowl of anything," I said, not quite as smoothly as I'd have liked, but I figured he knew me well enough to get the point.

He kissed me once more, much softer this time, and then pulled back completely. "I'll see you this afternoon, Beautiful." He glanced over my head and added, "Later, man."

I felt Bobby's arms come around my sides from behind me as Lester walked out to return to work. He nuzzled my neck and placed a few hot kisses there, causing my knees to begin feeling a little weak again. I figured it was only fair for me to tease him, since I'd done it to Lester.

"Hey, didn't you two agree not to do anything with me today so my body could recover?"

"Oh shit, Baby, I'm sorry." He pulled his face from my neck like I'd burned him. "You're right. It's just that when you're this close, it's hard to remember."

I lifted my hands behind my head and grabbed his neck to keep him in place. Then I pushed my hips against him and hummed in the back of my throat. "You are right about it being hard."

His strong hands fanned out over my stomach, touching as much of me at once as possible, and his lips returned to my neck. "How are you feeling this morning?"

"I'm great at the moment," I replied honestly.

"Was last night too much?" he followed up, obviously wanting more than I'd given him in my initial response.

"No, it was…" There just weren't the right words in my brain for this conversation. Finally, I gave up and went with, "…perfect."

The relief that came off of him was tangible, so I let my head fall back against his shoulder to show him that even with the sun up this morning, I was still feeling the connection and the trust from last night.

When his waist started to vibrate, I jumped, and he made a noise of complaint before pulling his phone up. I felt him laughing behind me, so I turned to see what was funny. Bobby turned the phone around so that I could read the text he'd just received.

_If I can walk away you can do it too. Didn't you say the longer she had to recover now, the greater the likelihood that we could have more fun tonight? _

I looked up at Bobby and waited to see if he'd say anything.

Then he shrugged and replied, "Yeah, I said it. I knew we'd probably pushed your body well past what it was used to, so we needed to give you a chance to recover so that you wouldn't associate us with waking up sore and uncomfortable."

I shook my head and reached out to touch his face. "No, I associate a night with my boys equating to a morning where I wake up so relaxed and blissed out, I can barely remember my name. It was hard to think about being sore when I was constantly getting hit with memories of what we shared."

His face lit up at that comment. "You were remembering it, too?"

That made me roll my eyes. "Yeah, I'd say the single best night of my life, ever, isn't something that's just going to pop out of my head without a second thought."

The look in his eyes shifted, and he spun me around so that he could lift me back up to sit on the counter with him between my legs. "Best night ever?"

My head moved up and down, confirming that was true.

He nuzzled my neck before saying, "I love a good challenge."

"What challenge?" I wondered, unsure what he was referring to.

"If we set our minds to it, I'm pretty sure Les and I can top last night," he replied, basically putting me on alert that they were probably going to kill me with an orgasm so powerful, my body would shut down and never recover.

I would have complained, but I realized if I had to go sometime, I couldn't think of a better way to do it.


	25. Punishment

_The characters below are all from the genius and creativity of JE._

_Jenny (JenRar) thank you for your hard work as the beta on this story. _

_Dina (aydinbydin) thank you for the comments and less than gentle prodding to post this story. _

**Chapter 25 – Punishment **

_Lester's POV_

"Yo, man, you okay?" Vince asked from the passenger seat.

I knew he was probably worried about the speed with which I was driving back to Haywood, but I couldn't get the images out of my head from the latest skip we'd rounded up. The guy was a weapons dealer who never should have been bonded. When Vince knocked on the door, the fool decided to use the two little kids in his house as leverage for us to let him go so that he could escape out the back of the house.

Of course, I was at the back door, and the idiot was too stupid to realize only a novice would go for a skip pick up alone when dealing with someone as dangerous as this joker. So Vince played along, lifting his hands in the air and backing off the porch. The skip kept the kids in what amounted to head locks, forcing them to shuffle backwards while he moved to the rear door, where I was waiting.

Once he got the door knob in his hands and verified that Vince was standing down on the front porch, he pushed the kids hard, causing them to fall into the kitchen table, which was covered with dishes, and then he made a run for it.

I let him dash past me just so I could chase him down and have the satisfaction of beating on him a little for hurting those children. At least I had the excuse of him resisting being brought in for why I had to bruise his kidney, fracture a rib, bust his lip, and break his nose. It wasn't as satisfying as I'd hoped, but it did help a little.

Vince called for backup to haul the skip's sorry ass to jail while we waited for the blue and whites and social services to show up to deal with the kids. They were scared shitless, apparently having been told if they ever talked to guys that came to the house, their father would punish them for it. Seeing how he treated them when he knew someone was looking, I could only imagine how he would punish them when no eyes were there to hold him in check.

The more I thought about those frightened children, the more pissed off I became. I said I was doing this line of work to make the world a better place, but had I really done much good? Based on the look in their eyes, I hadn't done enough.

Vince interrupted my thoughts when the tires squealed in complaint over the speed at which I took the ninety degree turn. "Hey, man, is there another call we're responding to?" he questioned, probably hoping a different tactic would get through to me better.

I backed off a few miles an hour and got us to Haywood as quickly as I safely could. I went straight to the gym, needing to get the look of those two kids out of my head. By the time I'd gotten to them, they'd been huddled together, leaning against the underside of the overturned table, with a few surface scratches from the broken dishes their bodies had impacted. I had realized that I was only making their situation worse by continuing to approach them. I guessed from their point of view, I was the bastard who had beaten the shit out of their father, and even if he was a piss poor excuse for a dad, he was still probably all they had. _Better the devil you know_ was a hard instinct to fight.

By the time I reached a punching bag, I already had my holster off. I toed off my boots so that I could use my feet for a few free kicks too and feel the full impact. Right now, I felt the need to punish something and to be punished in the process. I needed to hurt to remember the fact that my inability to control my anger had caused those kids to see me as a monster. Truth be told, they weren't that far off the mark in thinking that. I'd done a shitload of monstrous things in my thirty-five years.

I lost all track of time. I knew we'd gotten the jump on the skip somewhere around eighteen hundred hours, and we'd spent at least a couple of hours there after the fact waiting for everything to get settled. That explained why the gym was basically empty. I could hear a treadmill running and the occasional ringing of free weights hitting the rack, but for all intents and purposes, the gym was basically mine so that I could begin the process of teaching myself a lesson.

It began to get darker as the final rays of the sun died away from the windows and the muffled banging of the gym doors announced whichever of the guys had been sharing the space with me were clearing out for the night. It was just as well; I could feel my body beginning to wear down, and my knuckles were already swelling. I really didn't need an audience for this.

Years of survival training and practice taught me when I was being watched, and despite my assumption that the gym was empty, I knew someone was looking at me. I was more than ready to take one of the guys to the ground for leering at me, when they damn well should have known better. Sneaking up on somebody like me could get you killed, and apparently, somebody had a death wish.

I kicked the bag and then transitioned into a spin, charging in the direction where I'd felt a presence, only to come face to face with the biggest, most beautiful blue eyes I'd ever seen looking at me with concern and not even a hint of fear. I had charged at her with the intent of tackling her, but was able to pull back at the last minute so that there was only a couple of inches separating my sweating form from her calm, but stubbornly determined one.

"You scared me," I admitted, not worried about how much of a pussy it made me sound like.

"I didn't want to interrupt," she acknowledged. "But I figured you'd had enough and it was time to stop punishing the bag for something it didn't do."

I shook my head, not wanting to destroy her naivety. "It's not the bag I was punishing."

"The only other option of who was getting the short end of the stick in that battle would be you," she replied, understanding what I was saying, "and there's no way I'm going stand back and let that continue."

I tried to keep my tone neutral, recognizing she didn't deserve my anger in her direction. "Steph, I've had a shitty day, and I have to get some of it out. This is the only way that works for me."

She slowly moved her head from side to side. "No, it isn't."

I forced myself to draw in a deep breath, trying to find some measure of calm so that I could get her to leave.

Before I could speak, she jumped in, "If Bobby were here, you'd be able to get it out with him."

"True, but he's not here," I pointed out the obvious.

"No, but I am," she countered.

"I'm not taking you into the sparring ring. There's a big damn difference between the self defense moves I've been teaching you and a full blown fight when I'm on edge," I reminded her.

"Sometimes, you and Bobby do things other than fight."

I could tell she was trying to imply something without coming right out and saying it.

"You mean, in the past, if Bobby were here, I'd fuck him hard and fast." I knew I was being blunt, coarse, and in many ways, an ass, but I didn't have the ability to sensor myself.

"Bobby's not here, but I am. Why can't you do that with me, if it would help you, instead of literally beating yourself up?" she questioned, obviously pushing past her own discomfort in being so direct.

I ran my fingers through my hair, tugging at some of it until it stung on my scalp. "I'm not doing that to you."

"Why not?" she pushed.

"No," I repeated harshly, not wanting to discuss it any further for fear that she would somehow convince me to try it, knowing it was a recipe for disaster. If I took her the way I used to take Bobby, she'd end up hurt, bruised, and probably too scared to ever face me again. When I was messed up like this, I didn't want to think, so I just let whatever instinct rose to surface take over, and I couldn't risk losing control like that around her.

She moved slightly, getting more in my face and catching me off guard. "That's not an answer."

Obviously when Bobby and I were considering how wonderful it would be to have Steph's stubborn streak turned on us, we'd failed to consider this particular situation. She wouldn't let this go until she had an explanation, so I tried to give her enough to make her drop it without letting her see me for the fully flawed man I was.

"Look, when I'm like this, I need to shut my mind off. I need a little time when I'm not thinking so that when my brain comes back on board, it won't keep playing the same screwed up scene over and over. If I shut off my thinking then I can lose control, and if that happens, you may get hurt." I paused to let my words sink in, before adding, "I couldn't live with the thought of hurting you, especially not in our bed."

After a few blinks, she spoke. "Do your ears still work when you're like this?"

These whiplash subject changes were hard enough to keep up with when I was on top of my game. Now, I just had to go with the flow. "Sure, I can still hear."

No sooner had the words left my mouth then her hands reached out and grabbed fistfuls of my shirt, yanking me to her so that I had to move my feet to keep from being thrown off balance. "Then listen to me, Lester Santos," she spoke in a hard voice I'd never heard from her before. It was commanding and filled with an edge of _don't mess with me or there'll be consequences_, and it was going straight to my dick.

"You're going upstairs with me, right now"—I started to disagree, but she tugged harder at my shirt, effectively shutting me up—"and you're going to go straight to the bedroom and strip."

This was like a sexual fantasy that was quickly going off the tracks. On the one hand, my body wanted to obey, but my brain was screaming for me to run fast and hard before this blew up in my face.

"Once your clothes are off, you're going to lie down on your back on the bed with your arms stretched out at your sides. I'm not going to tie you down, but your hands are going to stay on the mattress and not on me, do you understand?" She didn't look me in the eye, but continued to keep her eyes glued to the side of my neck, like the vein there would tell her of my acceptance of her conditions.

"I could hurt you," I stated, and then began mentally swearing at the fact that those words basically meant I was giving in to her demands.

"No, you can't, because you aren't going to do a single thing unless I tell you to. You aren't going to touch me without permission, you aren't going to taste me without permission"—then her fists tightened on my shirt as though making sure she had my complete attention—"and you aren't going to come without my permission, either. The only thing you are going to do is lie there and await my instructions, focusing on my voice, my touch, and my body on yours."

And then the damned betrayer between my legs decided to make the decision for me by standing straight up at attention and pulling my hips forward until they pressed against hers.

Stephanie shook her head no and reiterated, "I can see we're going to have to work on this. I don't want you doing a thing"—to make her point, she thrust back against my hips, grinding us tighter together—"without my permission."

"Yes, ma'am."

I spoke as though I were used to being dominated every day. In truth, there were times that Bobby took over, and while I wasn't what you would call a submissive by any stretch, it was sometimes a refreshing switch to not have to do a thing but just give myself over to whatever he hand in mind. Honestly, I didn't think Stephanie had this kind of thing in her. Obviously, I wasn't expecting her to break out whips and chains or leather restraints in the apartment, but something told me if she kept this kind of attitude going, the movie loop stuck in my head would turn off so that I could focus on just her to see what unexpected surprise she'd come up with next.

Her hands let go of my shirt and smoothed it across my chest, still wet with sweat. "Good." She still used that assertive voice that told me even though she was letting me go, she still expected my full cooperation. "Now get your boots and your holster, and let's go upstairs."

Fifteen minutes later, I was spread out on top of the mattress, wondering if I would be able to hold back the impulse to let my animal free. I could feel the panic begin to build that if I flipped out, I could hurt her or seriously damage what we were building together with Bobby. On the flip side, I knew that if we were ever going to have something real, she would have to learn how to deal with the occasional meltdown by one of us, so we may as well test it now before we all traveled too far to back out.

When Steph came out of the bathroom, she wasn't wearing a stitch of clothes, and she was carrying a basin that I assumed had water in it. This was exactly the kind of thing I would usually love, but right now, I wasn't sure I could take her tender nursemaid routine without it making things worse.

She looked me in the eye and said, "Stop judging what you think is going to happen and just lay there quietly."

"All right," I replied, my voice dripping with doubt that this was going to work.

She slipped on a couple of gloves, which I thought was odd, and then dipped the wash cloth in the water and loosely wrung it out. "This might burn a little," she warned a millisecond before she put the cloth on the tender underside of my arm, proving that she'd filled the basin with just straight steaming water as hot as she could get from the tap.

"A little is an understatement," I told her, trying to hold back the urge to draw my arm across my chest to protect the skin from her burn treatment.

She stopped moving and held me with her gaze for a moment. "This doesn't require a commentary. You worked up quite a sweat downstairs, and you need to be cleaner before we can move on."

I concentrated on the stinging sensation as she continued to wash me with the steaming water, and I found that each time she put the cloth on me, it became easier to take. By the time she'd finished my arms and chest, I was concentrating on the pattern of her dipping the cloth in the water, allowing it to drip, wringing it out loosely, and then placing it on my body, letting the burn sink in slightly before moving it to clean me. With each section of stinging skin, I felt my brain unhooking more and more so that nothing else existed but her touch and the lingering tingles the cloth left in its wake.

She freshened the water when she reached my waist and jumped down to my feet to start again. And when she hit my thighs, I realized what she was doing. There was a big part of me that felt dirty, like there was something wrong with me. Stephanie didn't know what had happened, but she understood that I was trying to punish myself for that inherit filth. It was like being cleansed by fire where I was powerless to resist it, but by staying still and accepting it, I could feel the heaviness in my chest lifting by small degrees.

I heard her shucking the gloves and figured my penance was over, so I opened my eyes to see what she hand in mind for me next. After putting the water away, she climbed onto me so that she was straddling my groin. Despite the fact that I'd just been literally seared a little on the top layer of skin, the warmth between her legs quickly heated me up. She then reached over to a bottle of something on the bed and began working a little lotion in her hands before putting it on my chest and rubbing it in. It was cold, as though it had been in the fridge.

The stark contrast to the sensation of the hot cloth made me have to concentrate on controlling my responses to keep from cringing away from the icy lotion. She moved with efficiency, not hesitating to rub the white goo all over the skin, still reddened by the bath. If the wash cloth was burning away the sins of my past, the cold lotion felt like some sort of physical forgiveness, giving me a fresh start. I lifted my chin, pulling my face away from where she was to keep any emotion that might be showing from being visible to her.

Cool fingers touched my cheeks before her voice rang out, "Don't do that. Hiding from me isn't part of this." She began to rub with light touches across my cheek and up to my forehead, her hands mirroring each other. "There's never a place for hiding in this room."

I nodded that I understood, but said nothing.

She finished her work in silence, continuing to shock my skin with the chilly lotion and keeping my mind focused on the transformation from burning to cold across my body. Slowly, as my mind began to come back to me, I realized she'd switched from the cold shock treatment to a gentler massage, and her hips were rocking slowly against me, as well.

My body ached to respond to her movement, but I recalled her instruction in the gym about me following only her directions and not acting out of my own wants or desires, so I fought to keep my body still. I was about to beg her to do something – anything – to me when she stopped and crawled off of me, leaving me alone on the bed for a moment. I didn't like the feeling of being by myself, left to the dark places where my mind went when I had nothing to distract me.

Just when I was about to lose my mind, she returned, and my eyes focused on her, thinking that she was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. There was a reason I used that nickname for her, and seeing her slowly walking toward me, I was struck again at how fitting it was for her.

"All right, Les," she said, breaking the silence of the room. "Let's see how good you are at following my directions. Remember to keep your body still until I tell you, and no matter what, don't come without me giving you permission first, got it?"

I nodded yes and was rewarded with a smile, which put me at ease. The threat of darkness that had begun to attack when she'd left disappeared now that she was smiling at me, and I was once again completely in the moment.

Her movements were so controlled and slow that it was almost like she was working in slow motion, drawing out every physical sensation from even the slightest change in position. Long moment later, she lifted up and positioned me at her center, sliding down so that I was enveloped by her moist heat. My head tilted back, and I fought to stay on top of the desire to thrust. There were times that I thought holding my release back was torture, but I could easily see that not being allowed to even move was going to be much worse.

She moved against me in smooth, rocking motions, not in any kind of hurry. Sitting straight up over me, she allowed the points of her fingernails to run down my chest, renewing the stinging sensation when she pressed down against me. Before my body could adjust to the heaven of her surrounding me, she stopped and just sat there perfectly still. I had no idea she could be that immobile, and I briefly wondered if this was as hard on her as it was on me.

Before my mind could get very far with that line of thought, she tightened the muscles surrounding me so that I felt like my dick was in some kind of sauna-like vice grip. It was incredible, and my hips moved before I could stop them. The light stinging of her nails increased, and I knew she was intentionally digging into my chest as a punishment. I nodded, unable to speak, just to let her know I understood she was telling to me settle down.

For the next half hour, she alternated between slow movements and then gripping me with her internal muscles, taking me to the brink of exploding before stopping so that I couldn't find a release. My mind was torn between wanting to beg for her to let me move and take her until we both came together and wanting this moment to stretch on as long as she could maintain it because I was floating in a place where nothing existed but the connection between us.

I felt her lean down and place a soft kiss against my lips. She pulled back just enough to say, "You can put your hands on my back, but you can't touch my hips."

I was worried that any type of touching would be too much, but I followed her directions anyway. I couldn't remember ever feeling skin this soft under my fingers, and I let my hands roam over her back randomly. I figured this single moment in time was about as close to heaven as I would ever get, but I didn't care. Whatever my ultimate judgment turned out to be, I'd happily accept, because I'd have this memory to sustain me for an eternity.

She pushed up slightly, making the angle better, and then said, "Okay, Les, let go and come with me." Her voice was breathy and a little deeper than usual, making it the single sexiest sound I'd ever heard.

My brain couldn't even process the words she'd spoken before my body took over and began to move with her. It wasn't in a frenzy to take over; it was just to complete the communion between us so that we were coming together, not with a bang, but with wave after wave of consuming pleasure.

The flashing random colors behind my eyelids told me I was squeezing my eyes shut too hard, so I tried to force them to relax and failed. I couldn't move a muscle on my own.

Stephanie moved before I could figure out how to and began to stroke my face like she was painting it with her fingertips. "It's all right, Les. You can relax. It's just us, and I'm not going anywhere."

She kept on rambling, soothing with her voice and her touch until my mind began to slip and drifted off to sleep.

When I woke up next, it was pitch black in the bedroom. Stephanie was curled up against me, with no distance between our bodies. I would have tightened my grip on her and willed myself back to sleep, but I heard the apartment door open and close, and I knew Bobby had returned. A quick look at the clock showed it was nearly one in the morning, so I moved as carefully as possible and got out of bed without waking Stephanie. She was still gloriously naked, and I hoped she would stay in that exact position and state of undress until Bobby and I both returned to bed.

I grabbed a pair of boxers from the dresser and slipped them on before walking out to the living room to see my partner. He looked beat, but he grinned when he saw my no doubt thoroughly sexed up appearance.

"I see she found a way to get through to you," he stated the obvious.

He must have seen the confusion on my face, because he kept talking. "Cal called me while you were in the gym and asked if somebody should offer to get in the ring with you. Since Tank and Ranger were both gone, I didn't think anybody else should try it. Then he swore and told me that Steph had just interrupted you, and you looked poised to kill."

"I'll bet you started driving back then, didn't you?" I asked, knowing how close I'd come to hurting her in the gym.

"No," he surprised me by confessing. "It's strange, because I should have, but I knew you wouldn't hurt her, and I figured she'd either help you or leave you in the gym to sort it out yourself until I could get home."

"Obviously I didn't hurt her." I felt the need to assure him I hadn't hurt the most precious thing in our lives.

"Shit, man, I never thought you would," he told me, holding more faith in me than I had in myself.

"I came home about three hours ago and saw her on top of you, with you still as a board, and I watched you two." When he said that, he looked down, like he was ashamed to admit he'd enjoyed the show.

If it had been anyone else, I'd have torn into them, but this was Bobby, and the idea of him watching Stephanie riding me didn't hook anything in me other than the odd desire to see her do the same thing to him.

"I don't know how long I stood there while she absolutely ruled your body, keeping you focused on nothing but her," he explained, letting me know it wasn't just a quick peek, but a full fledged experience. "In the end, I got a page to go to the ER, or I'm pretty sure my sorry peeping Tom ass would still be standing there."

I wanted to say something funny, something to lighten the mood and put his mind at ease, but for some reason, my mind was still blank. Hell, I hoped that experience with Steph hadn't left me like this permanently. Realizing my mouth wasn't going to help, I just went with my gut and walked over to Bobby before shocking the hell out of both of us and throwing my arms around him.

Sure, we'd been together for years, and we'd begun to touch more and more the longer we were together, but this kind of thing wasn't typical for us. It took him a couple of seconds before he lifted his arms and returned the gesture. We stood there gripping each other, and I felt like we were saying all kinds of things, but no words were necessary to get the point across.

It was a voice, thick with sleep from the doorway of the bedroom, that finally broke us apart. "Why don't you two hit the shower and then come join me in bed? It's really lonely in there by myself."

I looked back at Bobby and raised an eyebrow in question. "Come on," he replied, obviously still able to communicate verbally, even though I couldn't. "I'll help you wash your back."

I grinned then, knowing that if Bobby washed my back, he'd just turn around and dirty it again. We moved to the bedroom to use the master shower because it accommodated us both easily. Just before I passed by Stephanie, I leaned down and kissed her check. "Thank you," I whispered before moving on, not giving her a chance to respond.

I knew I owed her a lot more than a weak token of gratitude, but I had to offer something. This angel had come into our lives and was turning them upside down. We'd begun this path wondering if a little softness could make a difference to us, and tonight, that question had been answered with a resounding yes. I may not have screamed it out loud, but it was there just the same.


	26. The Sweet Taste of Defeat

_JE deserves the credit for creating the characters below._

_Jenny (JenRar), thank you so much for the fast turnaround as the beta on this story._

_Dina (aydinbydin) I added in the little scene to give Bobby's temper a small shout out just for you. _

**Chapter 26 – The Sweet Taste of Defeat**

_Bobby's POV_

I was finishing up the wipe down of my exam table, hoping that would be the last time it was needed today, when I heard boots on the tile floor. I knew my hope had been misplaced, so I turned my head to the door in time to see Hal walk in.

I raised an eyebrow to him as a question about why he was coming to see me. The only person on staff that hated doctors and medical procedures as much as Stephanie was the man in front of me, so I figured this was going to be good.

He had the good sense to look a little embarrassed before confessing, "I know you said limited physical activity with the stitches in my shoulder, but…"

"Damn it, man," I blurted out before I could stop myself. This had been a crappy day almost from the moment I got to the main floor this morning, and I had a feeling it wasn't going to get better.

_Les and I were having a morning snack in the breakroom when Vince came in asking if we'd been running through the woods. I had no clue what he was talking about so I waited for him to explain that the scratches on my forearms and Lester's neck looked like something you'd get from moving through underbrush. _

_Bones came in during Vince's ridiculous question, followed almost immediately by Stephanie, who smiled at us and went over to peruse the muffin selection. Apparently nothing impressed her quickly because she started to drum her fingernails on the countertop instead of picking something up. _

_Bones, being the fingernail freak he is, watched her and then blurted out, "Hey Steph did you break a nail?" It wasn't until he said it that I could tell there were nine distinct clicks and one more muted thud that he'd obviously picked up on._

_She turned around, with her face already wearing her trademark blush of embarrassment from his question, and stammered through a reply that she had broken a nail, but couldn't get a whole sentence out to attempt to explain how it happened. She looked at Les and then me before smiling and then practically running from the room._

_Before either of us could get up to follow her, Bones grinned at us and said, "Look at that smile on her, Dudes, you guys totally rock." He wasn't being vulgar, he was just pointing out that he knew how we'd gotten our scratches, and how Stephanie had broken a fingernail, and he was happy for all of us. _

_Vince seemed totally lost so Bones said, "Man, keep up – those scratches aren't from being in the wild, they're from getting a little wild."_

_You could see the gears turning in Vince's head as he struggled to keep up with what Bones was saying and then the light bulb over his head came on and a snear came over his face. "You two have been banging Bomber."_

_That was it, I'd already had a medic call, and a take down gone wrong this morning and hearing Vince use words like that about Stephanie snapped something in me and I leapt from my chair and made it to the table beside ours where Vince was seated in a chair that had been turned around backward. Without even thinking it through, I threw a fist and connected with his jaw in the magic spot that had him falling straight to the floor, completely unconscious._

_Lester was at my side in an instant. "Man, overkill much?"_

_I couldn't even get an entire response out so I just repeated Vince's words, "Banging Bomber?"_

_Les seemed to think it over for a minute and then his face hardened as he picked up the insult to our woman. "Damn, I can't hit him if he's out cold."_

_I cracked my neck trying to get the beast that had roared back under control. Bones whistled under his breath and then looked up at us. "You guys go on. I'll get Sleeping Beauty here awake and I'll explain that it was his own big mouth that made his face meet the tile."_

_I held my fist out to bump Bones' outstretched hand and then walked out wondering what else could go wrong today._

I took a deep breath, not wanting to lose control with Hal the way I had with Vince this morning, but still felt the warning signs that told me my control was hanging on by a thread.

I'd stitched Hal up after a skip managed to cut him with a knife over a month ago. Two weeks after he was cleared for duty, he'd been hurt when his new partner ran into him and knocked him into some sharpened metal sheets. I'd stitched him up again and given him very specific instructions, which he'd promptly disregarded, reopening the wound and making it worse last week.

When I'd patched him up from his own stupidity, I'd told him the next time he did it, I was going to put him back together without numbing him first. Apparently, he was like a pre-schooler, trying to push me to see just how much he could get away with before I snapped and followed through with an appropriate punishment. Unfortunately for him, my patience was long gone, which meant today was that day.

"I'm getting sick and damn tired of putting you back in one piece because you can't keep it together long enough to let your shoulder heal," I tore into him, seeing him wince at my tone.

The problem with yelling at Hal was that he looked like some fresh faced kid from the mid-west, and I felt like I was kicking a puppy every time I raised my voice near him.

I ran my hand over my face to get a grip and managed to soften my voice to say, "Come on over and let me see what you've done."

He followed my directions and jumped on the table, pulling his t-shirt off at the same time. I was surprised to see that around the line of ten neat stitches I'd put in, there was red, angry-looking skin. I saw a little strain on my handiwork, but he hadn't torn them again. Instead, I was convinced he had managed to get an infection.

I put my hand on the skin around the injury and could tell from the warmer temperature that I was right. "How long has it been hurting?"

He shrugged, proving he was really one of us, not willing to admit to a weakness. "It started itching three days ago, so I figured it was just healing. But when it started burning today, I figured you should take a look again."

While he was talking, I filled a needle with an antibiotic, hoping to jumpstart his immune system into fighting this off. I spun around, pinched the skin up, and gave him the injection before he could process what was happening. Half the time I came near Hal with a needle, I had to pick him up off the floor, so I decided to try a sneak attack to see if it helped.

Hal's face stayed focused on where the needle had been for long enough, I worried that the speed with which I'd acted hadn't made any difference. Finally, he looked up at me, blinked a few times, and then said, "Thanks."

I went through the usual routine of putting some ointment on the top and covering it.

While I worked, Hal seemed to find his voice and asked, "Did you learn to do that quick needle work because of Stephanie?"

I knew he was just making conversation because he was a little on edge, but I always bristled when one of the guys mentioned our girl. I had to force myself to relax when I dropped the cotton swab I'd been using to apply the ointment at the sound of Steph's name. Hal and Stephanie got along, so I knew he didn't mean any disrespect by what he'd said.

"No," I finally answered. "She prefers to know exactly what I'm going to do before I do it." In other words, she's got more backbone than you do – but some things shouldn't be said aloud.

I finished him up and sent him on his way with a ten day supply of antibiotics and a command to check in with me every day until I cleared him. Most likely, this would clear up now that it had been treated, but I couldn't risk it getting worse and going unnoticed, indicating a much bigger problem than I anticipated.

After completing the second clean up of the medical suite this evening, I finally made my way up to four and put my key in the door forcefully. My mind was tired, and even though I knew it wasn't Hal's fault that he had an infection, I also recognized that this wound would have been healed and gone by now if he'd followed my initial instructions and taken it easy for a week when he was first sliced open. As if my job wasn't hard enough some days, I had guys going out rogue and making it harder, since I had to clean up the messes they made of their bodies.

I was hit with the sound of laughter when I walked in, and I felt a little of the mental fatigue plaguing me begin to slip away. I listened as Stephanie ended a conversation with whoever had been on the phone and then watched as she walked around the corner in one of my old t-shirts that read, _Stop__ your whining and put a band-aid on it_. The little cartoon character had a gaping bullet wound in his stomach; it was gruesome, but for some reason, it always cracked me up.

"Les here?" I asked, wishing my voice didn't sound so harsh and I hadn't spoken to her so abruptly.

"No, he called about half an hour ago and said he and Ram were heading out because they got a tip on a skip they've been after for a while," she explained, not seeming to be put off by my poor attitude.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. It wasn't a big deal, but I really could have used either a sparring partner or some dinner. Tonight was Lester's night to cook, and I knew when duty called we had no choice but to answer, but I wasn't in the mood to fix dinner this evening.

Once I felt like I could control my reactions, I moved to the kitchen and opened the freezer to see what was in there that I could quick thaw and cook so that Steph and I could eat. I heard her footsteps and tried to force myself to relax the way I usually did naturally whenever she was around.

A small hand touched my shoulder, and when I didn't react immediately, it shoved slightly, as though telling me to get out of the way. I stepped to the side and turned to look at her to see why she'd done that.

Without a word of explanation, she closed the freezer door, opened the refrigerator, and pulled out a bowl of freshly made salad. On top was a grilled chicken breast cut into pieces. She held it out to me and explained, "I chopped everything myself, but I'll confess that I took the chicken breast from Ella to be sure it was safe for human consumption."

I took the bowl from her hand and looked at it, wondering why something as simple as a salad meant so much to me right now.

When I looked up, she was holding a small juice glass that had a dark liquid in it. "I did make the dressing myself, but I let my mom talk through it, so I'm pretty sure it's safe enough to eat. All the ingredients came from your food here, so unless it tastes horrible, it shouldn't hurt you."

I smiled at her explanation and took the dressing, liberally dousing the salad with it, not caring if it tasted like shit or not. Stephanie had made it for me, and I was going to eat it no matter what.

My wrist was pulled as she led me to the couch to sit down. Pointing to the spot I usually occupied, she said simply, "Sit. I'll get you some water."

I followed her lead, thinking how strange it was to have someone looking after me. When she returned, she sat beside me and turned so that she could watch me eat. I was surprised by the first bite of my dinner, as the dressing was delicious. Whatever her mother had suggested was good and definitely something I'd eat again.

"This is perfect," I told her, watching her face light up, "Thank you."

She pretended to pick lint off her jeans and then looked at me again. Her eyes narrowed slightly, and I felt as though she was taking in more about me than just my outward appearance.

"You're exhausted," she finally proclaimed.

"Not really – just a little tired," I corrected her. Honestly, it wasn't so much that I needed sleep as much as I needed to rest. There was a fine line of difference, but it made sense to me.

She shook her head and then asked, "Do you want to tell me about your day?" It's like she wanted to give me the chance to talk about it, but she had a suspicion I was going to say no.

"Let's just say, other than my usual work, I spent plenty of time doing stuff that should have been unnecessary if people had just followed my directions the first time," I told her, knowing it didn't explain much, but not really wanting to go into any more than that, either.

I resumed eating my salad, knowing that good nutrition was part of keeping myself sharp. After munching away in silence with Stephanie occasionally touching my shoulder and neck, I set the empty bowl on the coffee table, leaned back onto the cushions, and shut my eyes.

I heard her get up and take the dishes into the kitchen, and then her footsteps took her to the bedroom for a while before she returned. With no warning at all, I felt her legs straddle my waist, and I sat up quickly to see what she was doing.

"Take your shirt off," she instructed in a way that I couldn't help but notice wasn't really a request.

I didn't have anything to lose, so I leaned up, despite her being in my lap, and pulled off the black uniform shirt I'd worn today, discarding it on the floor.

Her warm hands cupped my face when I sat back again, and she looked into my eyes for a long moment before speaking again. "Did you know that my Grandpa Mazur was a barber?" she surprised me by announcing.

"Uh, no, I don't think I'd ever heard that," I answered honestly, always glad to learn new things about the woman captivating my attention so completely.

"Yep. When I was little, I used to love going into his shop on the weekends. The old guys would come in and play cards and gossip like women, waiting for their turn for a shave or a cut. They taught me to play poker and cheat well enough to win," she continued talking, still holding my face in her hands.

"When I got older, Grandpa Mazur paid me to come in and sweep up. And every once in a while, when it was just the two of us, he taught me how to do other useful things, like work with a pair of clippers or properly wash hair."

As she said the last part, she moved one hand to touch the newly cut hair on top of my head. I'd gotten rid of my braids last week, finally tired of the upkeep, and had it sheered down to an eighth of an inch, which laid down softly on my head. At first, Steph had objected, saying she'd miss running her fingers over the braids, but once she saw how soft it was when it was short, she decided this style was good, too.

She continued running her fingers over my scalp. "When I was a senior in high school, he taught me to shave a guy with a straight edge razor. He said the trick was to take your time and use a steady hand with even strokes. I practiced for hours on balloons and popped every single one I attempted to touch with the blade. Finally, Grandpa pulled me over one night after closing and sat in his chair, handing me a newly sharpened razor and a block of shaving soap with a brush. He expected me to put the razor on his face and trusted me not to carve him into little pieces like I had the balloon."

I was completely into her story and realized my hands were resting on her hips with me having no memory of putting them there.

"I begged him to let me keep working on the balloons and not risk hurting him, but he took my hands in his and made me look him in the eye." Stephanie held my gaze with hers to be sure I was paying attention to her next point. "Then he told me that he trusted me completely, and he was positive I wouldn't hurt him.

"My hands were shaking while I added a little water to the block of shaving soap, but I knew that look on his face meant he wasn't going to back down until I'd at least tried it. He reminded me to warm his face first to open the pores and help the hair stand up better, and by the time I finished doing the prep work, my hands were no longer nervous."

Her ability to rise to the occasion had always amazed me, so I wasn't surprised she'd had that skill since she was young.

"The first stroke was the hardest, but Grandpa Mazur sat there perfectly still with his eyes closed until I worked up my courage to do it. When I pulled the straight edge away, I lifted my empty hand to his face, touched where I'd just shaved him, and saw the skin was perfectly smooth and cut free. I cleaned the blade like he'd taught me and set about shaving the rest of his face. When I was done, I washed him down and put a little aftershave on him, feeling like I'd just conquered the world."

When she finished her story, I could see the pride still evident on her face.

"After that, I came in every Saturday and helped Grandpa by shaving all the old guys he didn't have time to. The only time I ever cut somebody was when they refused to sit still. It always pissed me off when their inability to follow directions messed up my handiwork." Her face colored slightly before she added, "Of course, I cut myself plenty being a klutz and mishandling the blade, but the faces I was working on always came out baby bottom smooth."

Then she leaned way over to the side so that I could see what was sitting on the coffee table behind her. There was a bottle of my shaving cream, a straight edge razor I didn't know was in the apartment, a bottle of aftershave, and a small basin of water with a washcloth floating in the top. I knew based on the collection of items that she intended to shave my face. There was a small piece of my brain that was buzzing like a warning alarm that having a very sharp blade on my face and neck being handled by someone other than me was a monumentally bad idea, but when she wrung out the washcloth and began wiping my face, the alarm seemed to go on mute, and soon, I didn't notice it at all.

It was a strange feeling to have someone taking care of me. I wasn't needy by any stretch, but since I spent most every day caring for others, it was a refreshing switch to have the tables turned on me like this. She was trying to give something of herself to me, and in the process, I had to trust her. Despite all the ways this could backfire on me, I decided a band aid or two would be totally worth it to let her know that, like her grandfather, I trusted her completely. By the time she was satisfied with the prep work on my face, my eyes were closed, and I wasn't sure I could open them.

She put her fingertips on my forehead and pushed my head back so that it was resting on the back of the sofa. "Just relax," she instructed, while getting some cream from the can and smearing it on my face.

I could tell from the way she worked it around my mouth and neck that she knew exactly what she was doing, so following her instructions came a lot easier than I'd thought it would.

Then I heard her open the razor and work it up and down a sharpening strip before saying, "Now, if you stay perfectly still, I can do this without any nicks or scrapes, but if you move or talk, then one of us is going to need some patching up."

I opened my eyes to be sure the razor wasn't near my face before saying, "I can be good."

A partial smile came over her face. "Glad to hear it. I'd hate to be the cause of a mark on your perfect skin."

I circled her wrist with my hand to stop her movement and said, "Thank you."

I wanted to say more about how much it meant that she was going out of her way to open up to me, something she still struggled with, and to let her know how it felt to have someone attempting to take care of me instead of the other way around, but I couldn't get any more than those two completely inadequate words out.

She shook her head no and replied, "There's nothing to thank me for. You're letting me use you to relive a good memory from when I was growing up." Then she pulled my fingers from her wrist to let me know she was going to start.

Once my eyes closed again, she leaned down and whispered in my ear, "Besides, I think your gratitude is a little too early. Wait until you see what I have in store for you after the shave, and then you can be thankful if you want."

I heard myself moan, beginning to both understand and want where this was heading.

I felt myself tense up when the blade landed on my skin, but after she made the first pass, I could feel the ease and confidence that she had in what she was doing, and I knew I had nothing to fear. Once I came to that realization, I was able to sit back and enjoy what she was doing. Each pass of the razor seemed to not only take off the growing stubble, but it peeled back a little of the weariness I'd come into the apartment with. By the time she finished, I found I was sad to feel her wiping my face down.

"Check it out," she suggested, lifting my hand from where it had rested again on her hip and placing it on my check.

I moved my hand against the grain, where I usually felt a little pull even after I'd shaved in the morning. I was amazed that there was truly nothing to feel. I'd never been this smooth.

"I know, right?" she prompted. "It's much smoother when you shave this way."

I glanced at her hands to be sure the blade was gone and there was nothing between us, and then I moved with the same speed I'd used earlier to treat Hal, cupping her face, pulling her to me, and kissing her with everything I had in me. I might not have the words to thank her for somehow understanding what I needed and finding a way to meet that need, but I could sure as hell show her with my actions.

She melted into me immediately and made a sound of such contentment to be in my arms that I wanted to take this beyond just a kiss of gratitude. I pulled back and smiled when she literally pouted at me. "I wasn't done kissing you yet," she almost whined, explaining her sour face.

I grabbed the hem of the shirt she was wearing and replied, "No worries. I haven't even begun to kiss you yet."

Her arms went into the air to make the removal of the shirt that much easier, revealing the fact that she was wearing a pair of the boxers we kept around to throw on for lounging but they were rolled up at the top to make them stay in place better.

"You know," I started, looking at her makeshift outfit instead of her bare breasts so that I could keep my ability to talk, "you really should bring over more clothes so that you can be comfortable here."

She grabbed my face, forcing me to look up at her. "If I bring over any more of my stuff, I may as well move in. Rex, my cookie jar, and a third of my in-season clothes are already here. My apartment is basically nothing but storage."

And there it was, hanging out there so that I could finally broach the subject Lester and I had been discussing more and more when it was just the two of us but we had yet to figure out how to make it happen in front of Stephanie without scaring her.

"I can help you pack up everything tomorrow... It's my day off."

I ground my teeth together, forcing myself to stay silent and hoped my jump into the deep end wouldn't make her run screaming that it was too much commitment too soon. In reality, we'd known each other several years, Les and I had been pursuing her for a couple of months, and we'd been officially together for a solid month now. I guess to many people, it was quick, but it felt right to us and we didn't want to wait anymore.

"That's a big step," she warned. "You guys might decide I take up more than my fair share of the closet."

"You can have the whole damn thing as far as we care," I replied, meaning it. "I'd live out of a box if it meant having you here every night."

Stephanie laughed at my confession. "I'm here every night anyway."

"Yes, but there's a part of us that still wonders where you'll be when we come home. I turn the knob and come in unable to relax until I see you in the apartment. I'm always a little worried that during the day, you will have thought everything through and decided dating two guys was more work that you thought it would be, and you will have retreated back to your place to have a little space." I laid it all out there, wondering if she would understand what I was saying.

"I can't promise there won't come a time that I need a little space just for me, but I can tell you that I won't just run away without letting you know first," she said after giving my words some thought.

That seemed like a more than fair compromise.

"Now," she interrupted my thoughts to get me back to where we'd been before I think she'd agreed to move in with us. She hadn't come out and said it in so many words, but she hadn't disagreed when I'd alluded to it, which was enough for me to claim acceptance in my book.

My eyes got a little bigger when she stood up and worked the boxers down her hips, stepping to the side to rid herself of the silk completely.

"My God, you're a beautiful woman," I confessed to her, being struck again with how perfect she was in my eyes.

"Why don't you ditch those pants so that I can get the same kind of view?" she prompted, giving me the space to stand up and strip.

I ditched my clothes and took her hand, intending to lead her to the bedroom, but she stopped, causing me to step back to her to see what was wrong.

"Let's stay out here on the couch," she suggested. "I want to be able to look you in the eye and be chest to chest."

My finger traced the edge of her face at her hairline before I nodded. "Anything for you, Baby."

I sat in the middle of the sofa and watched as she slowly lowered herself so that she was straddling my waist, hovering just over my little soldier, which was impatiently waiting for the order to move.

"Do you know why I wanted to be this way?" she asked, obviously thinking more of my cognitive abilities than was realistic when she was naked in my lap.

"What?" I was proud of myself for managing to say anything, even though I knew it wasn't the most eloquent response.

"Sometimes, this is a nice position because neither of us is really on top. It's more like we're equals – partners in the same experience," she explained. "Plus, with the lights on out here, I can see your face, and you have the most expressive face when you…well…cum."

I smiled at the thought that despite how forward she was being in requesting a position and how far she'd come in accepting her body and not feeling the need to hide it around us, when it came to speaking bluntly about sex, she still seemed to trip over the words if anybody was looking her in the face. It was a trait I found endearing enough that I hoped it never faded.

"We're always partners in the same experience," I pointed out before contradicting her next point, "but as far as being equals, Baby, you hold all the power regardless of how we are positioned when we make love."

Her face reddened slightly before she said, "One day, I want to understand what that means."

"I'll spend a lifetime showing you if you want," I assured her.

That must have been all the conversation she was interested in, because she lifted up, positioned her hips better, and then engulfed me in her wet heat, forcing me to throw my head back against the sofa and clamp my eyes shut, repeating the major bones in the skeleton to hold back my reaction to the sudden entry into her body. I hoped I'd never got used to this feeling.

She forced us to move at a slow pace, not letting me change the tempo or the angle. I fought the lack of control for a moment, and then, just like the surrender she'd demanded when she'd held the razor's edge to my neck, I allowed myself to let go and let her lead me where she wanted to go.

I heard a key in the lock and knew we were hidden from view of anyone coming into the apartment, but I couldn't stop my reaction of wanting to hide Stephanie to protect her from any threat our visitor might pose.

"Shhhh," she murmured, urging me to calm down, apparently understanding it was Lester who was coming home and nothing to interrupt our time together.

When he came around the corner and slowly let his eyes take in the scene we made on the furniture, his whole face transformed. His eyes darkened, his lip went between his teeth, and then he relaxed the grip on his bag so that it fell out of his hand and hit the floor with a resounding thud. "Now this is the kind of welcome home a man could damn well get used to."

I remembered last week when Les had gone through a shitty day and I wasn't around so Stephanie had to help him fight the demon in his head to let go of what he'd endured in the field. He told me about it over beers a couple of days ago, and when he'd described this trick she had of alternating moving over him with clamping down on him with her muscles, I'd nodded as though I understood, because I had enough theoretical knowledge to know what he meant.

But when Lester announced he approved of what we were doing, Stephanie began to use that same technique on me, and I was convinced the head of my dick was going to explode if she didn't stop. It was like being massaged in a deep tissue kind of way. There was no logical explanation for it feeling that good, but I never wanted her to stop.

Then my partner smiled and began to stalk toward the couch, stopping when he was directly behind Stephanie, tilting her head back and kissing her. I loved watching them together; I had from the first moment we'd spent together, and now was no exception.

When he finally pulled back, he locked his eyes on me and said, "Hey, Beautiful, how about you pick up where you guys were when I so rudely interrupted, and I'll give you a hand?"

When he finished speaking, he knelt behind Stephanie, and when she lifted her hips again to thrust down hard against me, Les moved a hand between my legs, grabbing my balls and massaging them every time she lifted up.

I knew at this rate, I'd blow in ninety seconds or less. Stephanie proved herself once again to be an angel when she moved closer to my face and said, "Bobby, I need you to let go. I can't hold back anymore."

With my permission to blow granted, I let the sensation of being surrounded by the people I most loved wash over me, and my orgasm followed. I actually felt my vision fade out momentarily as every nerve ending in my body seemed to scream out in release.

When I began to feel my wits coming back to me, I opened my eyes and looked at Stephanie, who had collapsed against my shoulder, and Lester, who had moved to sit beside us on the couch. I took a deep breath, feeling the need for an increase in oxygen, and Stephanie laughed.

"What's so funny?" I couldn't help but ask, knowing there was nothing remotely humorous about what we'd just shared.

"I practically attacked you," she replied, not even attempting to open her eyes. "If I don't cut that out, you guys are going to put me back on sugar, aren't you?"

"Hell no," Lester quickly assured her.

"You sure you guys can keep up?" she teased, still not showing any signs of moving the rest of her body.

"You leave that to us," I warned her. "I'd up our vitamin intake before I'd start dousing you with more sugar and missing a night like this."

Then she surprised the hell out of me by jumping up like I'd poked her with a cattle prod and grinning at us. "Good, because I'm going to take a shower, and then I'm going to be ready for round two with both of you." She took off into the bathroom, leaving me with an equally shocked Lester watching her fast retreat.

"What the hell was that?" Les asked, still focused on the now empty doorway.

I looked at him for a minute and realized how happy he looked. My chest suddenly felt ten degrees warmer and three inches broader as the love this woman brought to our lives expanded my heart. "That, my man, was a challenge to our very manhood."

He stood up and held out a hand to help me up, as well. "Well, I don't know about you, but I'm feeling the need to protect my manhood's reputation."

I did a quick glance back to the kitchen out of habit to check for anything that needed to be put away and saw a box of Lucky Charms on the top of the fridge.

"What the hell is that?" I repeated his question from earlier while pointing to the box of sugar in the form of a kid's breakfast cereal.

Lester chuckled and shook his head. "Plan B in case she's right about us not being able to keep up."

As much as I wanted to argue, our military training had instilled in us the need to have multiple exit strategies, and based on her renewed energy at the moment, I wouldn't discount the need to occasionally resort to alternate methods of satisfying our little wildcat.

The thought that we might stoop to drugging her with sugar should have bothered me, but something told me that if it was necessary, defeat would never be as sweet as that admission would be.


	27. Beyond Happy

_JE created the characters below that I've been having fun with._

_Jenny (JenRar) thank you for seeing me through another story as the beta. I'd like to think my writing is getting stronger and better because of your gentle corrections and suggestions. Thanks for hinting that this chapter was important in order to close the story. _

_Dina (aydinbydin) I never would have attempted a story like this if it hadn't been for your encouragement and plot sketching with me. From the saved scenes that I'd not thought to keep, to the idea bouncing as the story moved along, you've had a definite impact on this journey. Thank you._

**Chapter 27 – Beyond Happy**

_Stephanie's POV_

"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" I yelled into the foggy evening as I drifted along the walking path of the park. It was just past dusk, not completely dark, but late enough that no children were here, thus leaving me free to rant and rave all I needed to about how foolish I'd been when an old friend from high school had made some comments about my private life.

The air was wet, but it wasn't raining. Not that the forecast mattered to my hair; I looked like a cartoon character that had stuck their finger in an electrical socket. I kept a scrunchie in my purse so that I could pull my hair back on days like this, but when I'd tried to wrap it around my hair, it had broken – a fitting analogy for my day.

I knew better than to wander off near the duck pond. Those birds didn't like me on a good day, and there was no way I'd go there with the park looking like the perfect setting for a slasher movie. Somehow, I made my way to the swings and moved my purse to rest on my back like a hiker's backpack and softly pushed myself back and forth, keeping my toes on the ground to guide my movements.

The day had started off well. It had been sunny in the morning, and I'd had a mid-range skip that I'd been able to take down all on my own and get dropped off at jail, earning myself three grand and ensuring the apartment I now used primarily as a storage unit was covered for another thirty days.

I'd had lunch at my mother's house, and she and I had spent the late afternoon in the kitchen together, with her cooking and allowing me to help a little. I would never be Martha Stewart, but I had learned to follow a few basic directions to make some non-toxic food safely so that I could feed the guys at least one night each week. They each took a couple of nights, we tended to eat out at least once, and there was always the required Plum family circus to round out the week of meals. While I didn't want to go overboard with the domestic thing, I did like the idea that I was able to take care of the guys a little. Plus, it had been great in helping my mom and me build something that resembled a normal mother daughter relationship.

And then my day had taken a turn for the worse.

_I was loading my Fiat with some leftovers from our kitchen lessons when Marjorie Helmsley walked by wearing four-inch platform heels that still barely got her over five feet, a tiny dog on a leash at her side. Her hair had enough spray in it to instantly combust if she got too close to an open flame, and her face had the plastered on smile of someone who thought they knew a secret they just couldn't hold inside for a minute longer._

"_Stephanie, it's so good to see you," her lying lips said, but her tone was saying, "Now I have the chance to corner you while you're alone."_

"_Hi, Marjorie. I was just leaving," I tried to politely respond. The 'Burg had certain expectations of civility, and especially right in front of my parents' house, I needed to conduct myself appropriately._

_She came to a stop right in front of me, and even though every warning bell in my head was screaming for me to get in the car and drive off, I knew her mother was the head of the neighborhood watch association and if I blew off the little princess in front of me, it would get back to my mother. Quite frankly, I didn't want something this stupid to undo all the bridges Mom and I had mended over the last few months, so I stood still to see what she wanted._

"_I heard the most interesting thing," she began, holding out her left hand as though I had not already heard about her engagement to the real estate broker across town._

_The diamond did sparkle, but it was big enough that you could see how yellow it was. Even though I knew she thought she was showing off, all I could think was, "The cheap bastard couldn't even get you a high quality diamond."_

_I managed to pull my eyes away from the urine colored rock and look at the tiny woman in front of me. "What's that?" I knew humoring her would get me the hell out of here._

"_I heard that a certain member of our graduating class from school is living in sin," she began, as though living with somebody this day and age was something to bat an eye over._

"_Marjorie," I cut in, relieved this was all she was interested in discussing. "A fourth of our class is living with somebody outside of marriage."_

"_Let me finish," she jumped in, as though I'd interrupted the best part. "They're living in sin with two men, not just one."_

_I didn't know what it felt like to be on an airplane when an engine died, but I believed the feeling that settled in my stomach when she basically told me she was talking about my private life would be pretty close to that impending doom sensation._

"_You mean they're living a double life with two families?" I asked, hoping if I threw her off enough, she'd get confused and let it go._

_She looked at me like I was an idiot and shook her head as much as her stiffened hair would allow. "No, silly, she's living with two guys at once."_

"_Oh, like sharing an apartment and splitting the rent three ways. It's a great way to save money," I offered as an explanation while fishing my keys out once more so she'd remember I was trying to leave._

"_Can you image how her family must feel?" Marjorie continued, as though I had answers for these questions. "I mean, to be our age and not have at least gotten a fiancé is bad enough, but to have lowered yourself to just being a woman who services multiple men in order to have a place to live is something else entirely."_

_That was it. My temper was now officially in the locked and loaded position. "What makes you think she's just servicing them? Maybe they love her," I pointed out, hearing the edge to my voice and trying some of the techniques Bobby had been teaching me for staying calm._

"_Oh, Stephanie, that's not how this works," she said before giving me a twittering laugh. "Men don't want women that are that easy forever. They are just toys for the moment, and when the men are ready to settle down, they will dump her to the gutter where she belongs and they'll move on with their life, leaving her ruined to try to live without the support of family or friends."_

"_Who are we talking about?" I finally asked, realizing that Marjorie had always been known for being ditzy and emotionally flat, but she wasn't really an intentionally cruel person. I had trouble believing she'd basically just told me to my face that in her opinion, I was living on borrowed time and would soon be discarded with yesterday's trash._

"_Oh, I don't know. I just heard a rumor, but I didn't hear any names," she said quickly, helping me to rein in my temper a little. "I was hoping you knew who it was, but obviously you don't."_

"_I'm sorry I can't help you," I replied, not admitting or denying anything. I'd decided a few weeks ago that I wasn't going to go out of my way to tell people about my private life, but I wasn't going to deny it if someone asked me directly. Since Marjorie clearly didn't know I was the person she'd just called a cheap whore, I didn't see the point in telling her she was standing in front of the person she'd just insulted._

"_Oh well," she replied, reminding me of the shallow girl I knew in school. "Toodles."_

_She walked away, and I got in my car quickly before anyone else came by to take cheap shots at my life choices. I got the key in the ignition after the third try, but I didn't start the car right away. Instead, I sat there for a few minutes, replaying what she'd said to me. Would Bobby and Lester get tired of me and move on leaving me ruined?_

_I was convinced after being with them just these short months that they had definitely spoiled me for all other men. They were so attentive and caring that I didn't think anyone else on the planet could follow in their footsteps. I guessed the bigger question was whether I believed the airhead that had just bumped into me on the sidewalk or the two men I considered to be honorable and trustworthy from years worth of interaction._

_I saw the curtain to the right of my parents' front door pull back, so I knew I couldn't keep sitting at the curb or my mother would assume the worst and call the paramedics, assuming I'd had a heart attack. Still, something in the interaction with Marjorie had left a sour taste in my mouth that I didn't want to take back to the apartment at RangeMan._

_I lived there, for all practical purposes, but I hadn't been able to refer to it as my apartment yet. The guys didn't seem to mind; they were just thrilled when I boxed up all my lingerie and brought it over. I could swear it was not in the drawer the way I'd left it, either, which made me wonder which one of them had been snooping through my unmentionables. Perhaps it wasn't a coincidence, but rather a hint, that all my thongs were on top and the few pairs of practical cotton briefs were buried at the very bottom._

_I drove randomly for an hour and ended up at the park I used to come to when I needed to think. I figured thinking was all I'd been doing this afternoon, so it was the perfect spot. About that time, the fog began to roll in, and the few people who had been enjoying the public spot cleared out, which gave me the courage to get out of my car and walk for a bit._

Once I'd calmed down, I used my time wisely, coming to a few definite conclusions about my life. First, I was completely and irrevocably in love with both Bobby and Lester. I saw them as intertwined, unable to live without the other, so by loving one, I automatically loved the other. I knew to an outsider, it made no sense, but for us, it worked, and I no longer felt the need to question it.

Second, I realized that I still wasn't comfortable advertising to the world that I was sleeping with two men, but I was tired of hiding it, too. I should have set Marjorie straight on the sidewalk today. I should have looked at her and said the woman she'd heard about was me, and I was the luckiest woman in the world to have not one, but two men completely devoted to my happiness, now and forever. I knew better than anyone that people would believe what they wanted. I was feeling so unsettled now because I'd been a coward earlier, and at heart, I wasn't a coward. Strangely, if Marjorie had attacked the guys, I would have stood up for them, but for some reason, I let her walk all over me and that needed to stop.

Which led me to my third realization – I needed to stop living in fear of what other people would think. I did what I wanted in nearly every case, but I hated that feeling that would settle in afterward, where I wondered if the great shadow of the 'Burg's disapproval would settle over me and I'd be branded with a label that would cause me to be an outcast. The truth was, I'd never fit in there, and I needed to stop caring what they thought.

The only opinions that mattered were mine and those of my boys. My family, Lula, most of RangeMan, and even Mary Lou knew about the three of us and now treated it as though it were yesterday's news – although Hector did drop my desk at the office at least once a week to try to get details from me about what Lester was like in bed. He also offered to help me out if I ever got too tired to handle the demands of both of them. I was pretty sure he was joking, but the last time he'd said it, Bobby had come over and puffed up until Hector walked away with his hands up in surrender.

I was lost in that memory when I heard footsteps on the sidewalk. I didn't even have to turn around; I knew exactly who it was,

"Hey, guys."

"Hey, Beautiful," came Lester's familiar voice.

A hand touched my shoulder, and I knew from the feel alone that it was Bobby; I didn't even have to look.

I put my hand on top and squeezed his fingers. "Hey, Bobby."

He placed a kiss on top of my head and then asked, "What's going on?"

"I just needed a little time to think," I replied, still a little lost in my head.

"About what?" Lester asked, coming closer and sounding pretty nervous.

I shrugged and then realized it wasn't fair to them for me to leave it hanging out there. "Me, my backbone, or occasional lack thereof – just stuff," I rambled off a list.

"You want to talk about it?" Bobby asked, not pushing, just reminding me they would listen to anything I wanted to say.

"No," I replied honestly, realizing it wouldn't really help. My realizations weren't news, in the big scheme of things; it was just me settling my own thoughts down into a firm place. "What I want to do is swing."

Bobby stepped away, and I heard him and Lester sit on the empty swings on either side of me. I glanced up at the pole running across the top that the chains were connected to, waiting to see if it could hold all our weight without bending. When I decided it was solid, I pushed off and began to pump to get higher in the air.

We cut through the air in silence for a while, with only the squeak of the chains against the top of the swing set disturbing the night. Finally, it hit me that I wasn't in the easiest, most logical place, and they'd still found me.

"How did you know where I was?" I wondered.

They both chuckled at my question. Bobby offered a little more information. "When we got home and you weren't there, we waited for a bit. But after an hour when you hadn't arrived or called, we started to worry that something was wrong. I called the bonds office, but Lula hadn't heard from you, so I called your mom. She said you had some kind of run in with an acquaintance of yours from high school and then drove off. I asked her for suggestions of where you might be, and she gave me a few possibilities. Since she'd sent you home with food, we didn't think any of the eating places would be likely, so we started here."

When he said that, I couldn't stop the smile from creeping across my face. They hadn't spied on me and pulled up my trackers; they hadn't come in here yelling about how I'd worried them. They'd just calmly called a few people and then came after me to be sure I was all right. Marjorie was an idiot, and I was a fool for letting her get me in a funk that caused me to miss time with my boys.

With that thought, I let go of the chains and dismounted from the swing, flying through the air and landing on both feet. Hmm, too bad my leap from the garage roof hadn't ended that gracefully.

I turned around in time to see both of them copy my move, but I had to admit, they had landed more smoothly than I d, barely making any noise. One day, I'd figure out how they did it. Right now, though, it was low on my priority list.

"You know what I want?" I asked, looking between the two of them.

"No, Beautiful, what do you want?" Les asked, always up for anything.

"I want dinner, at home, with you two," I began.

"Is that all you want?" Bobby asked with a hopeful edge at the end. I had a feeling his mind was already jumping to dessert of the non-sugar variety.

"No, but it's all I'm telling you about in a public park," I replied with a grin.

Bobby swooped me up, holding me across his strong arms so that I could lean against his chest. I loved it when he did that, because it made me feel light and dainty.

"Then let's get you out of the public park, because I'm very interested in everything you want to tell us behind closed doors," he teased, his voice going low enough that his chest rumbled against my side.

Lester put a hand in the nest of tangles surrounding my head and stopped the progress Bobby had been making. "Wait a minute... You said you wanted to go home."

It took me a second to realize what he was asking, and then I got on board. "That's right; I want to go to our home, our apartment, on four."

Les leaned down and kissed me quickly before pulling back and asking, "Is that what you were thinking about? Why you needed to be out here alone?"

"No. Well, sort of." I wasn't making much sense, so I patted Bobby's chest so he would set me on my feet. I always found it harder to talk when I was in his arms because I just wanted to burrow down and lose myself there. Once my feet were on the grass, I told them, "I had a run in with someone, and I didn't handle it well. She hooked my temper, and then I intentionally mislead her about my life just so she'd leave me alone. After I was in my car, I started to feel ashamed of how I'd behaved. I'd never hesitate to defend you guys, but I don't have that same reaction to standing up for myself, and then I realized how lucky I was to have you and how good my life is right now. I'm not willing to hide behind the worries about what people might think like I always have. It's exhausting, and since I usually just do what I want to anyway, it's wasted energy."

"Damn, Baby, that was a lot of thinking," Bobby said, running a finger down the side of my face.

I took his hand in mind and held onto it. "Not really. Once I got out here by myself, it was all crystal clear, and it all kind of sorted itself out. I love you guys, I love our life together, and there's no way I'd give up what we have, so even though I'm not going to drive through town screaming that I get to go to bed with two of the world's sexiest men, I'm no longer going to worry what will happen if the rest of the world gets current and figures out what we are to each other."

Les took my free hand in his and lifted it to his lips. "You are an amazing woman. You know that, right?"

I shrugged, not willing to go that far. "I'm a lucky woman, I know that much."

"Nah, we don't love you for your luck," Bobby jumped in, moving closer so that I was sandwiched between them in my favorite position. "We love you for you."

We were all quiet for a minute while that declaration of love just sat out there, warming me up and settling whatever lingering doubts were still in my mind. I knew they'd never lie to me, but it was hard to replace thirty years of self doubt and bad experiences with four months of heaven.

"Come on, I'll drive you home," Bobby said, tugging me toward the path to the parking lot.

Fifteen minutes later, we were in the den, eating the food my mom had given me and talking about nothing and everything. I was well fed, warm, and completely relaxed when a brand new thought hit me, causing me to sit up straight and alerting the guys that I was about to abruptly change the subject.

"What is it?" Les asked when no words came out of my mouth.

I glanced over at the lamp and wished it wasn't on, lighting up my face perfectly at the moment.

The gesture wasn't lost on Bobby. He reached over and touched my arm to say, "Come on, Steph. You know you can say or do anything around us. We're not going to judge you or laugh at you."

I knew he was right, but I could still feel my face lighting up. "Since we first got together, things in the bedroom have been…wonderful." I needed to ease my way into what I wanted to say, but I totally didn't know how to do it.

Lester was grinning at my first announcement, obviously agreeing with me. "Yes, they have – better than wonderful."

"I know we've begun to do different things," I tried a different tactic, hoping at some point, they'd pick up on what I'd just thought about and finish it out for me. "I mean, at first, it was soft and easy together, and then I had some time with each of you, and you even let me watch you guys have a little time of your own." I had to stop there and take a deep breath. This time, the flush on my face had nothing to do with embarrassment and everything to do with how much I loved that memory.

I'd twisted my ankle a couple of weeks ago and had it propped up on the couch like Bobby had instructed. Then Les and Bobby had come in, both pissed off beyond anything I'd ever seen. I hadn't been able to get up, but it had been obvious they'd had some frustrations to get out that I wasn't going to be able to help with on one leg. When I saw them trying to calm down and failing, I'd sarcastically said, "Don't mind me," intending for them to go in the bedroom, and I'd stay out in the den to give them space.

What I hadn't expected was for Lester to tilt his head like he didn't understand my words and for Bobby to say, "She's got to see it sooner or later."

It wasn't until Lester unbuckled his belt that I'd realized they were going to have sex out in the den where I could watch. I'd seen them make out and touch each other and loved each glimpse into their shared sexuality like that, but what they'd unleashed that day was beyond what my Catholic white girl imagination could ever have conjured.

At first, I'd worried they were going to hurt each other. The force that Bobby had used in slamming Lester against the wall had made me sit up straighter so I could intervene if I had to, but when Lester growled and smirked, I'd realized it was all a part of their foreplay, and I'd reclined again and just taken in the show. By the time they were finished, they'd hit most of the walls, bent each other over the couch where I was lying, and used a bar stool as a balancing mechanism, as well. I'd been in agony and had known I'd go over the edge if either of them had even hinted at touching me. When they'd found the energy to look at me, there'd been definite worry on both their faces. I guessed they'd still wondered if I would see them as my gentle lovers after watching them take each other so animalistically.

The only thing I'd been able to say was, "Damn, when my ankle gets better, you are so taking me like that."

They'd both grinned, and the issue had been settled once and for all over whether their aggressive sides would frighten me. I had clearly proven that not only was I not scared, but I was now horny enough that they had to each take a turn satisfying me just to help get the image of what they'd done out of my head and replace it with that sweet exhaustion of having been loved well.

I shook my head to get that memory out because it wasn't the new thought that had hit me.

Lester's grin had doubled in size, as he obviously knew exactly where my thoughts had drifted.

Bobby brought us both back to the present by asking, "What new thing do you want to try now, Baby?"

He was so close to what I wanted, but he was going to force me to say it. "Why haven't you both taken me at once?" I asked. "I mean, you've shared me, we've been together, but we haven't _been_ together."

Lester chuckled at my clumsy attempt to say what I was thinking without using the direct words. "You want to know why we haven't both been in you at the same time."

I nodded, glad that they were at least up to speed.

Bobby moved closer, which always made it easier for me to talk about personal stuff. Something about being spread across the room made me more self-conscious, but when my boys were close enough to touch, I had more confidence.

With his hand resting on mine, Bobby spoke. "Baby, we're more than happy to do that, but we've been holding back to give you time to get used to having us both in your bed. You hadn't really shown any interest in anal sex, so we didn't want to push you somewhere you weren't comfortable."

"But that's the only way we can all be together at once, so we'll have to try it sooner or later," I pointed out, appreciating their patience with me but realizing to take what we had to the next level, we'd have to try it at some point.

"We're content with what we have, so there is no reason to push you into areas you aren't ready to explore," Bobby rebutted. "But if you're interested in trying it, we are more than willing to show you what it's like."

"I've seen what it's like between you two," I reminded them.

"No, Beautiful," Lester disagreed. "We won't take you like that. Not there. It would be too much, and you wouldn't like it."

"But—" I started to disagree, until Bobby shook his head, cutting me off.

"He's right, Baby. If you want to know what it's like to have us both, we will gladly make your fantasy come true, but you're going to have to let us do it our way, because the thought of tearing or hurting you in any way would keep us from being able to do it."

"Then how?" I wondered what they were willing to do. I was also a little nervous at the whole idea of trying it. There was the taboo thing that I was pretty sure I was over after knowing them, but still, after years of thinking of that part of my body as completely off limits, it did feel strange to be asking them to take me there. And the way they were talking implied it might hurt. I remembered the unpleasant feeling of losing my virginity with Morelli and wondered if this would be worse than that.

Lester stood up and held out a hand in invitation. "Now?" I squeaked out nervously.

He glanced over each of his shoulders like he was searching for something else in the room with us and then looked back to me. "No time like the present, unless you have a more pressing engagement at the moment."

I put my hand in his, agreeing that putting it off after talking about it this much would only make me more nervous until we eventually tried something.

Les helped me to stand up and pulled me into a hug, holding me tightly to his chest and surrounding me with his arms. I loved this spot and was content to stay this way while they had one of their silent conversations. I could feel him move his head but heard nothing, so I figured they were on their ESP level of stealth communication.

When he whispered in my ear, "You know we'll take good care of you, right? And if you want us to stop at any time, all you have to do is tell us."

I nodded that I believed him, and in my heart, I did. They'd never hurt me and had proven themselves to be masters of control when it was called for.

The air around us felt different when we went to the bedroom. We spent so much time there that I couldn't imagine why this seemed special, but it definitely did. I was nervous, but I didn't doubt at all that I wanted to experience this.

"Are you sure you want this?" Bobby asked from behind me, pressing my back to his chest.

I nodded that I was and leaned into him, loving the feel of his broad chest behind me.

"Then just relax and let us take care of everything," he instructed, getting another nod as a response from me.

Honestly, was a side effect of anal sex the inability to talk? Hell, we hadn't done anything yet, and I couldn't make my mouth work. When we were finished, I might never speak again, which could be funny, since it would then be up to Bobby and Lester to explain why I had no voice.

"What are you thinking about?" Les asked, bringing me back to the present and pointing out that I had a smile on my face.

"I'm happy," I told him honestly, not exactly admitting to how far out there my actual thoughts were, but summing up the fact that even though I was about to experience something new and a little unsettling, I was at ease. I trusted these men with my life, my heart, and my body, and having that kind of dependability made me…happy.

Bobby's deep voice sounded right at my ear as he warned me, "Ah, Baby, you ain't seen nothing yet. When we finish with you tonight, you're going to be well past just being happy."

Thank goodness Bobby picked me up again and carried me to the bed, because there was no way I could handle walking over there on my own now. I let him lay me on the bed and then pushed myself up to rest on my elbows and the backs of my lower arms as they moved around, turning off the lights, grabbing something from the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, and taking their clothes off.

I stayed still, knowing that they liked stripping me themselves, so there was no reason for me to rush to join them in their nudity. Besides, I could enjoy the show just fine from where I was, so I wasn't in a hurry to move and risk missing something good.

When they finished all their prep work and turned on me, I knew I'd made the right decision. There was a hunger on both their faces, but it was softened with a tender excitement I hadn't thought could co-exist. They worked seamlessly together to take off my RangeMan uniform, and then they moved into what I mentally referred to as our starting position. Lester supported my back against his chest with me between his knees, and Bobby was in front of me.

The moment Les pushed my hair to the side and began to kiss my neck, I shut my eyes and gave into the experience. I figured the nervousness would return later, but for the moment, I knew how wonderful these two could make me feel, and I wasn't going to fight it because I was worried over what might happen later.

I don't know how long we stayed that way, as time didn't seem to matter much in our bedroom. I do know that when Lester laid back with me still positioned on his chest, that Bobby repositioned me on top so that I was at the perfect height for his magical mouth to tease me even more. Since I knew nights with them were never just a single pop and then done, I didn't fight it as the first wave of please came over me. Bobby continued to lightly suckle and caress until I had ridden the full length of my orgasm before moving up my body slowly, kissing everything he encountered.

He ended up at my lips, and after thoroughly kissing me, he pulled back enough to explain, "Roll over and take Les so that you ride him."

I should have known better than to tease him, but sometimes, my mouth worked before my brain, and when we were in bed together, it was almost guaranteed to happen in that order. "Are you going to watch again?"

He gave me a bit of a dry chuckle before saying, "No, Baby, I'm going to do all kinds of things, but passively watching ain't on that list tonight."

And didn't that just make a girl gush anew. I used that as motivation to follow Bobby's directions and straddled Les before sliding slowly around him, watching his eyes shut and his lower lip go between his teeth. Honestly, there were nights I was sure he drew blood from using that technique to hold himself back. The fact that he was already trying to distract himself gave me one more piece of evidence about how much they'd wanted us to come together this way.

Bobby's hands were on my hips, and he guided me as I moved above Les, setting a rhythm that was slow and sensual. When I felt his hands shift, I realized he was repositioning me so that instead of sitting up over Les, he was encouraging me to lie down with my chest over his. That was when I realized what he was positioning me for. I felt exposed and stopped moving for a moment.

He must have known what had happened, because his hands began moving up and down my back before his chest covered me so he could get closer to my ear to whisper, "We can stop, Baby. We don't have to do anything you don't want to."

There was no way I was going to back out now, so I shook my head and said, "No, I want to." Then for good measure, I added, "Please."

A moaning sound filled my ears before the warm weight behind me disappeared and Bobby's hands settled on my hips, encouraging me to begin moving on Lester once more. Once I began to thrust, his hands began to massage around my hips to my lower back and then down to my ass. I'd never given much though to my rear end. I knew it had a muscle called a gluteus maximus, and I assumed that was what he was digging into with his thumbs. I'd never thought of getting a massage while having sex, but it was definitely working for me, as this felt heavenly. He patiently rubbed and moved, waiting for me to relax and enjoy what he was doing before sliding one hand in the cleft between. I tightened up reflexively, but he just softly ran his fingers from the bottom of my back down to where Les and I were connected and then back up until I let go of the reactionary tension.

Then Les surprised me by speaking. "Bobby is going to have to get you ready, Beautiful. He can't just push his way in, or it will hurt, but if you can relax a little and just focus on me then it will make it much easier."

I nodded that I'd heard him and knew that when Lester focused his attention on distracting me, I wouldn't be able to hold a straight thought in my head, so I let them care for me and gave myself over to the experience. Lester was teasing my right nipple when I felt a cool finger at the entrance to that tight hole that had never been touched. He pinched down at the exact moment Bobby began to work his way in so that my mind went to the line of pain and pleasure being caused by Lester, leaving me very little room for concern about what to expect behind me.

There was a strange sensation of something being in me that wasn't normal, but I wouldn't call it painful, just different. Bobby allowed me to feel that for a moment before he began to move against my thrusts on Lester. When Lester moved his other hand up to began lavishing attention on my left nipple, too, Bobby inserted a second finger, drawing my attention to him once more but never doing anything I wasn't comfortable with.

When I felt Bobby's fingers opening up, stretching me slightly, Lester began to twist my nipples and then softly talk to me about how much he loved my body and how perfectly it responded to everything they did to me. Les had a way of talking in sex that never made me feel dirty but added an erotic edge to what was happening. I was so focused on him that I relaxed again, making it much easier for Bobby to do what he needed to.

When Les stopped talking, Bobby pulled his fingers out, and I found that while I hadn't really thought that what he'd been doing was adding to my pleasure, when it was gone, I missed it. There was an emptiness I wasn't sure I understood.

"Look at me, Beautiful," Les pleaded, capturing my attention back on his handsome face and stilling my hips against his. "You are an incredible gift to us. You know that, don't you?"

"I know I feel that way about you two," I replied just before I felt Bobby's erection press into where his fingers had just been. His warm chest touched my back, and one of his hands held my hip.

"This may feel a little tight at first, almost like it's too much, but I promise it won't stay like that," Bobby said as he pushed through where I wanted to tighten around him. "Relax, Baby," he encouraged, before suggesting, "Look at Lester's face."

I glanced at the man underneath me, feeling the gratitude sweep over me as it always did when I realized one of these men belonged to me.

"Do you see how he's biting his lip?"

I nodded that I could see it and then moved my hand so that my thumb rubbed across Lester's mouth.

"He does that when he's holding back." Bobby kept talking, all the while making slow, controlled strokes, working his way gently inside of me. "He bites down so that he can keep himself in check and not rush the moment he's in. Do you know why he doesn't want to rush this?"

I shook my head no, not wanting to speak in case my voice betrayed me and told them that I could feel a little burning where Bobby was stretching past anything I'd ever felt before.

"He doesn't want to rush it because in a minute, I'm going to be completely inside you, and when you are ready for it, we're going to move together. Lester will be able to feel me inside you, brushing against his dick with mine with only a thin membrane between us. I'll be surrounded by your heat just like he is, and I'll be able to feel him pleasure you at the same time I am." When he said this last part, it struck me that I'd never heard Bobby's voice this low. Either he was turning into a late blooming bass singer or he'd not been this turned on around me before.

Something in that thought pushed my mind away from overanalyzing every move he made with the anticipation that it would be uncomfortable, and instead, I began to grow excited to feel what he was describing. When Bobby stopped moving, I waited to see if something was wrong. I turned my head to see if Bobby's face would let me know why he'd stilled, but his hand tightened on my hip to keep me from moving.

"Don't move, Baby…please don't…move."

I froze, worried that I was hurting him until I felt a long breath being released over my back and Bobby said, "It's so good – damn, you feel so…good."

It wasn't that he hurt; it was that he was struggling to handle how overwhelming it felt. That piece of knowledge was all it took to make me want to move, so I tried the little trick I'd learned they both liked and concentrated on clamping my muscles down around Lester, which had the lovely side effect of constricting around Bobby at the same time. I was rewarded with both of them swearing, which I assumed was a compliment that I'd made it even better for them.

"Slowly," Bobby reminded me, using his hands as a guide to get me moving on Lester once more.

He set the pace, and I just shut my brain off for once, not needing words to figure out what was happening. The feelings just washed over me.

The tenderness was gone. I felt full, which made sense, because neither of these guys was even average by any stretch. When they moved in tandem, I felt consumed, surrounded to the point of nearly being overwhelmed. Their hands moved over me, and I could feel each of them moving inside me, alternating their thrusts so that they not only had the friction of moving in and out of me, but they had the added stimulation of passing each other with every push and pull. Once I locked onto this, I started to feel the usual warmth spreading in my lower stomach, but it was a lot hotter than usual.

I held my breath, unsure if I should fight against it and wondering why it was so much harder to control than it had ever been. Just as the fear of what was happening in my body began to take root, Lester called out to me again and forced me to open my eyes.

"Look at me," he urged me. "We've got you, and it's all right. You can let it go and not fight it. We promise we've got you."

He knew exactly what I was experiencing, and his words gave me the courage to draw in a fresh breath and stop working against the pleasure, allowing it to flow through me and continue building instead. Up to this point, I'd thought that nothing could top what we had experienced while making love, but clearly I'd been clueless in that assumption. This was like nothing I'd ever thought possible. We were one – truly one – with no space between us, and my body was the union between theirs.

That thought triggered a scream in me that I didn't think was possible. It just became too much to hold back, and when the sound broke out of my mouth, the dams that I'd used to hold back those small pieces of my heart so that I'd still have something to live with if they decided they didn't want me anymore also broke, and I knew this would be it forever. They had all of me, and if something happened to us, I'd never be the same. I needed this: the communion between all three of us; the role of being cared for and being needed to provide care, too; and the way they used their bodies to both calm and please me while drawing us even closer together than we had ever been.

I was vaguely aware of the warmth in me when both of them called out their own releases. Bobby seemed to collapse on top of me, sandwiching me between their hot bodies. I loved the sensation and briefly wondered if Les was being injured underneath all this weight, but when he rubbed his hands on my side so that he was touching Bobby at the same time, I figured he was at least alive down there, so I didn't worry any further.

Much sooner than I wanted, Bobby pulled back and slowly slipped from me before rolling off to the side and tugging me off of Lester to spoon up to him, like we often did in our sleep. "Are you okay?" he asked hesitantly.

"Better than that," I replied, hoping he understood what I was trying to say. "How about you?"

Lester and Bobby both laughed at my question, and Les spoke first. "I'm surprised I'm still conscious. Shit, man, that was…oh hell…wow." At least I wasn't the only one too overwhelmed by what had just happened to talk in complete sentences.

Bobby laughed until Lester reached over me and smacked his shoulder. "All right, no reason to start throwing punches. I was just going to agree with you," Bobby explained his laughter.

I felt their hands on me and closed my eyes, accepting their comfort and adoration. They wanted me – needed me, even. I knew this because they said so and they were trustworthy men, but I could feel it in the way they touched me, and now, too, in the way we connected when we made love to each other together.

I couldn't believe I'd let the foolish words of a narrow-minded woman from the 'Burg make me second guess myself today. I'd wasted time in self-imposed exile that I could have spent between these two gorgeous men. Hopefully, this would be a lesson well learned so I didn't have to go through it again.

Six months ago, I'd thought that loving someone meant having to sacrifice and give up parts of yourself in order to be loved in return. It took the persistence of these two men to show me that I couldn't have been more wrong. Love was not a demanding thing that forced you to change; it was a natural connection that grew when you found someone who didn't accept you in spite of your faults, but who wanted you because of them.

My life had changed as a result of this relationship, but they were all changes for the better. Bobby was right; they hadn't even begun to love on me tonight, and happy was already an understatement about how I felt. I was growing, maturing, and had finally found a place where I could be me and soar.

_A/N: I don't know why I'm surprised when I get to the end of a story, but once again I'm amazed that this one is finished. When I began 3 of Hearts I worried that the relationship here would be too extreme for people to enjoy reading, but felt it was worth telling anyway. Thank you for sticking with me through this journey, for encouraging me, and for accepting that different doesn't mean wrong. To those of you who left reviews – this story was so much more fun because of you._

_And, for those two people without whom this story would not have come to be – a huge thank you – and drinks are on me to celebrate this one coming to a close. Jenny (JenRar) you are truly an up for anything beta, and I recognize how lucky I am to be able to work with you. Dina (aydinbydin) it is in no way an overstatement to say this story would not have existed without you. Thank you for planting the seed, for tending it with water and sunlight, and then for picking the flower and shoving it in my face until I agreed with you that it was beautiful enough to write about (you know what I mean). I only hope to return the favor until you finish and post your story as well._

_I'll take a few weeks off, and then I'll be back with something new. Thanks for reading along, and I hope to see you all on the next one._


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